All Jokes Aside
by Devil917
Summary: When facing your fears becomes real, Sam learns how hard it is to hunt what you're afraid of; especially when it's hunting you, too. Limp!Sam Hurt!Dean Tortured!Sam and Dean
1. Chapter 1

_Title: _All Jokes Aside

_Author:_ VFCGurl

_Disclaimer:_ As much as I'd like to tell you that I somehow 'own' Sam and Dean and that their locked in my basement right now…I can't. I do not own Supernatural, sadly. But I do own Seasons 1-4 on DVD (:

_Inspiration: _A very awesome person by the username '**Leahelisabeth**' requested this story to me as a one-shot for my other series 'Agony' and I very eagerly accepted and then asked to take it one step further when I suggested we turn it into the story you're about to read. If you love the idea, thank her. If you love the actual writing, thank me. If you love the grammar and the spelling and whatnot, thank my Beta. Either way, they're clearly more awesome than I.

_Beta:_ XxwithxoutaxwordxX - she's awesome :D

_Summary:_ When facing your fears becomes real, Sam gets to see how hard it is to hunt what you're afraid of, especially when they're after you for something you didn't know you were a part of. (Pre-Season. _Teen-chesters_, as some of you prefer to call it...Sam's 14 so Dean's like 18/19 -whatever.)

Just letting you know, beside the fact of what they're hunting and where they're hunting, this is a drama/angst story. There will be blood. There will be violence. There will be torture. Ha ha. Enjoy (:

* * *

**-Chapter One:**

Rock, paper, scissors. It is known around the world as a child's game. But to Dean and Sam it was much more than that. It was a way of life. To them, it was the only way to make decisions. When they were younger, whatever Dean said, went. But not anymore. Once Sam hit the ripe age of six, he came to the firm conclusion that he should have a say on how the show was run. The only way they could compromise, with a fair chance for each of them, was this: rock, paper, scissors.

They had just come from a hunt. A werewolf in the backwoods, taking whoever happened to cross its path. It would claw them to shreds, and then eat their heart. Dean and John had taken this on themselves, telling Sam he needed to 'man the car' which told Sam they were afraid he'd get hurt. So he didn't argue. Instead, he gave his fake 'it's okay, I get it' smile and watched them go into the woods. It didn't take them long to kill the werewolf though. Sam could see the smoke from the fire from the front seat of the car. A few minutes later, Dean and John emerged from the woods. There was blood on Dean's silver tipped crossbow. He gave Sam a reassuring smile before he and their dad opened the trunk to pack up everything they needed.

John opened the driver seat door and Dean opened the passenger seat door. He gestured to the backseat of the car, and Sam frowned. Reluctantly, Sam rolled over the seat and into the back. He lay down and look backwards out the window. He stared at the upside-down trees as they blew in the wind. Within seconds, the car started and they were moving once again.

***All Jokes Aside***

But that was about five hours ago, now they were in the middle of a town that seemed half-dead. Every once in a while a car or two would pass them. John, of course, knew where he was going; but to Sam it looked like a place you wouldn't want to be caught dead or alive in.

"I'm pretty sure there's a Wendy's and a McDonalds around here," John says as he drives. "Never really been in that one. It's kinda out in the middle of nowhere, but then again everywhere we go is. So what'd you say? You guys up for that?"

Instantly, Dean smiles at the thought of food. He sits up and turns around toward Sam. He shakes his leg, trying to wake him even though he was already awake.

"Hey, dude, you hear that?"

Sam nods.

"So Wendy's, right?"

Sitting up, Sam shakes his head. "I want McDonalds."

John smiles slightly, knowing what's coming. _Here we go_, he thought.

Dean shrugs. "And I want your Science teacher. But we can't always get what he want, can we?"

"Dean," John says in a warning one. He rolls his eyes in response, slamming his fist down into his open hand. Instantly, Sam knew what that meant. He did the same. They both had their game-faces on like this was a huge deal. But to them it was.

They both stared at each other with fake intensity and John laughed at their extreme dramatics. The boys slammed their fists three times in synchronization and then let their hands fall into whatever hand shape they chose.

Of course, Dean picked scissors and Sam picked rock.

Dean knew what was going to happen. It's what always happens. And he only picks rock so Sam can win, to give him a sense of control. Because we all knew what was going to happen, right? Dean was going to lose; Sam was going to win. Dean had to settle for whatever Sam wants to do and Sam feels accomplished. Losing was just a small price Dean had to pay to see his brother smile. Putting his hands in the air, Dean shrugs.

"McDonalds it is."

Sam smiles. "Ha."

"Shut up."

Like a kid, Sam sticks his tongue out at Dean then lay back down, trying to count the trees that flew by.

Dean searched the car quickly and found a stray pen in the cup holder and flung it over his shoulder, clipping the side of Sam's nose.

"Whoops."

John looked up at the rearview mirror and smiled.

Sam threw it back but it missed Dean terribly. The pen hit the glass of the window and fell into Dean's lap. Dean picks up the pen, turns around to Sam, and shakes it.

"It's amazing you don't miss your mouth when you eat, dude. I'm like a foot away from you and you didn't even graze my hair," Dean teased. He threw the pen gently at Sam and watched at it hit the center of his chest and roll onto the floor.

Sam chose to stay silent for a moment

"Whatever," Sam mumbled.

Dean hit the side of Sam's leg. "I was just joking, kid."

Sam shrugged. "I'm fine, and I'm not a kid."

Dean smiled. "You're fourteen, Sam. Get over it. And stop pouting."

Rolling his eyes, Sam turned his attention to the window. Again, Dean hit his leg.

"C'mon. I'll buy you a Happy Meal."

Sam smirked, and looked back at Dean.

"I'm too old for a Happy Meal," Sam states.

Dean laughed. "Dude, you get chicken nuggets and fries. It's the same thing, just without the toy and the box. You're a kid, Sammy. Just face it."

Both John and Dean laughed. Sam, on the other hand, didn't find it funny at all.

***All Jokes Aside***

When the joking finally stopped, they arrived at the McDonalds. There were exactly two cars in the parking lot. John, of course, pulled into the furthest to the door and reached into his Jean's pocket. Dean never really understood why his father had the tendency to park so far away, especially with all of these open space. John took out two twenty dollar bills and handed them to Dean, who declined by putting his hands up.

"Uh uh, Dad. Let the _man_ do it," Dean says, taking a quick glance at Sam who tried not to acknowledge Dean.

John smiled. He took hold of Dean's hand, opened it, and plopped the money in his palm.

"Just go."

Dean groaned as he pushed open the car door and stepped outside. He leaned back in and tapped on the seat.

"C'mon, grumpy."

Sam crawls over the seat and out the passenger side door that Dean held open for him. Dean ruffles his hear. "Cheer up, dude. I'll buy you a sundae," Dean says waving the money in his hand.

Sam shakes his head. "Stop trying to bribe me."

Dean shrugged. "Something's gotta give sooner or later. Eventually you're gonna want something."

Sam rolled his eyes, but Dean could tell he was just playing. "What I _want_ is for you to leave me alone."

Dramatically, Dean covers his heart with his hands and gasps. "Feisty, Sam."

Both Winchesters laughed as they entered the abandoned McDonalds. No one was inside, but considering the time, it was understandable. But what Dean found weird was the fact that there was only one row of lights on. It gave the place a creepy edge to it. Everything was silent as they walked in.

"Maybe they're closed," Sam says in a soft voice, looking around.

Dean shakes his head. "Better not be. It's not even midnight yet."

Sam looks down at his watch. "It's 11:58."

Dean shrugs. "Exactly. Not midnight."

They walk up to the counter and Dean bangs on it. "Hello?"

Almost immediately, a girl with dirty blonde hair came from the back and around to the cash register. She smiles at Dean and Sam. Only Dean returned the smile.

"Welcome to McDonalds, how may I take your order?" she recites. The girl sounds dead;her voice is dry and slow. Her eyes have a dark coloring around them. Either this girl was two seconds from falling asleep or she needs to go a little easier on the eyeliner.

Dean looks over the menu overhead. "Yeah, can I get two double cheeseburgers and large fries with that." Dean looks down at Sam.

"What do you want, Sammy?"

"I want what you and dad got," he responds quickly.

Dean raises his eyebrows. "You sure? Large fries and everything?"

Sam nods.

Shrugging, Dean turns back to the girl. "Make that three double cheeseburgers and large fries."

"'Kay," she says, suddenly full of life. "Your order will be right out."

Dean nods and walks over to one of the empty tables while they wait. Seconds later, the girl returns with three large cups. Dean nudges Sam, telling him to go take care of the drinks. Without argument, Sam gets up, grabs the cups and goes to the drink machine.

"What do you want?" Sam asks, filling up each of the cups with ice.

"Pepsi."

Just as Sam was about to press the button for the Pepsi, a Ronald McDonald came from around the corner. He had a smudged, crooked smile and horrible, faded makeup. His jumpsuit was dirty and his hair was a mess, but he still smiled. His striped long sleeves were ripped off and his biceps were showing. Both of his arms had scars all over them like he'd been cut multiple times as a kid. Ronald approached Sam, his arms outstretched, trying to give him a hug. Once Sam caught sight of the poorly dressed Ronald McDonald, the pure sight of the clown made his heart skip a beat. He dropped Dean's cup onto the floor, ice flying and all. He backed up, but Ronald was persistent on getting that hug from Sam.

"Hey, man, can you knock it off? He doesn't like clowns," Dean calls from his seat.

Ronald shoots Dean a dirty look and continues to walk toward Sam who was currently frozen with fear.

Dean stands. "Hey, Giggles!" he called to the creepy clown.

Ronald stops.

Dean walks over to him, putting himself between the clown and his brother. "I said back off. He doesn't like clowns. It's not funny."

At first Dean thought he was imagining it. But in that moment Ronald's eyes turned pure black. He smiled evilly at Dean, then looked past him, at Sam like he was blood and Ronald was a vampire. Dean didn't like that one bit. He pushed Ronald back a few steps.

"What the hell's your problem, dude?"

At that second in time, Ronald looked even more evil than he did a second or two ago. Swiftly, he grabs Dean by the throat and squeezes tight. And before Sam even had a chance to react or even say something, he flung Dean across the room. Sam felt his heart pound when he watched Dean crash into the table across the room.

The only thing Sam could think of was to run.

As quickly as he could, he ran for the door. He knew their dad would know what to do. Frantically, he tugged on the door but it wouldn't budge. It was locked.

Sam turned around, out of breath and heart pounding as he watched the evil clown walk toward him with a disgustingly creepy smirk on his face. The clown cracked his knuckles as he approached the youngest Winchester.

"We're gonna have fun tonight," Ronald says, his black eyes shining in the moonlight.

Again, Sam tugged at the door, hoping that by miracle it would open. But of course it didn't.

One thought ran across Sam's mind : _He's lock inside with __his worst fear._

Sam and Dean were just served a big burger of Mc-trouble in the world of the 'Golden Arches'. And no, you cannot _supersize_ that...

* * *

_Bum bum buummm! Starts off kinda slow, I know. Sorry. But! It's gets better. Scout's honor (:_

_***Announcer's voice* On next week's episode: **Sam and Dean discover the joys of a swirly slide. (: Am I lying? You tell me... haha_

_Stay tuned! Same time; same channel._

_Don't be shy, I don't bite. Please review!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: _Thanks a million for all the reviews. You guys rock. And for those of you who didn't review: may an angry clown show up at your doorstep.

**Last time...**

Sam and Dean encountered a not so friendly Ronald McDonald, go figure. Now, they are currently locked inside McDonalds with at least one evil S.O.B and no weapons at all. Yup, they're in trouble...

_You may now return to your regularly scheduled program (:_

_

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_**-Chapter Two:**

At some point in time, McDonald's slogan was _'The House That Love Built' _. Sam couldn't tell you how much that was a lie. A house full of love doesn't have evil, demon possessed clowns trying to kill you. It was clear Sam had a fear of clowns, especially killer clowns. The dirty, evil Ronald McDonald strolled toward Sam. His eyes stared him down at him, forcing him to look away. The only sound was his huge clown shoes scuffing the black and white tile ground. Sam gulped.

Briefly, he glanced over at Dean who was just now picking himself off the ground and trying to steady himself on his feet. A little toss wasn't enough to stop Dean. Sure, he'd need a chiropractor after this, but it wasn't going to stop him from helping Sam; and it wasn't going to stop him from putting an end to this clown.

The room was dark. By now, Dean could only see Sam in a faint shadow, but Ronald he seen clearly. His bright yellow jumpsuit stuck out like a sore thumb. At least he was easy to spot, Dean wouldn't have to worry about him sneaking up on them. Dean stared at Sam so hard, he felt a slight burning sensation on the side of his face, making him look over in the direction it was coming from. Once they made and locked eye contact, Dean signaled to him. Quickly but silently, Dean snuck up behind the clown. He had his hands up, fingers spread wide, ready to pounce on Ronald.

With his head, Dean gestured for Sam to move out the way.

Sam took off. He ran behind the counter where the three cash registers were. He watched from a safe distance as Dean wrestled with the clown. Dean had jumped on his back, arms gripped tight around his neck as he pulled back. He tried to make the clown loose his balance but he seemed too stable. Dean's only other option was to start throwing punches. He had nothing else. He left everything in the car. No one was expecting for the freaking McDonalds to be possessed!

A hard swipe to the head caused the red-headed clown to yell out. Even though Sam was at a safe distance, he still flinched.

Ronald flipped Dean onto the ground. His back slamming against the floor hard and punched him on the side of the head. Dean grabbed the clowns ripped sleeves and pulled him forward, throwing him to the ground, too. Dean kicked at the attacker over and over. Ronald blocked what he could, but Dean was on a roll. He punched and he kicked, he even pulled at the crazy clown's hair. But he wasn't giving up and none of this was enough to get rid of him.

Dean climbed to his knees and hovered over Ronald. He wound his fist back, preparing to take a huge swing at him. Just then Dean's fist was about to make contact with his face, he heard Sam yell.

Both Dean and Ronald looked over toward him. They seen Sam walking backwards with his arms up protectively to shield his face and the blond who had taken their order earlier coming after him with a knife.

"Sam!"

The girl swung at him, but Sam dodged it. She swung again, but Sam ducked.

Dean punched Ronald in the face and stood. He tried to jump over the counter to reach Sam, but Ronald took hold of his foot, causing his stomach to ram into the edge of the counter, pushing the air out of his lungs with a loud _humph_.

"Dean!"

The girl picked up speed, so Sam ran. He darted for the kitchen area.

Kicking backwards, Dean caught the clown in the face, causing him to let go of his ankle, and allowing him to push himself up and over the counter. In the distance he heard a lot of pots and pans falling to the ground with loud bangs. He heard yelling and the sound of Sam's running. There was a crash and then another yell.

After sliding over the counter like a ninja, Dean followed the sound of the noise. Just as he entered the kitchen area, everything was silent. Too silent. Pots and pans were thrown everywhere. Fries were on the ground. Burgers were still on the fryer. Cups were scattered here and there. Spatulas were tossed every which-way. Powder was on the ground. Above, the lights flicked every now and again, taking everything to a whole new level of weird and creepy.

"Sam?"

Dean stepped over a frozen row of hash-browns. He looked everywhere. Suddenly they were gone. One second they were yelling and screaming, dropping things on the floor, now everything was quiet.

"Sammy?"

There was total and complete silence.

"I'm over here," came a voice. Sam's voice. Dean felt himself sigh in relief. He was just about to begin to think the worse. Jogging, Dean followed the voice to the back of the kitchen area, it was amazingly larger than Dean ever imagined. Who knew McDonalds had this much room? Finally, Dean found Sam. He was couched on the floor behind a island in the middle of the kitchen. White powder was all round him, but the first thing Dean noticed was the redness on his upper arm.

Dean drops to the ground and grabs Sam's arm.

"You're bleeding."

Sam was taken aback by this. Actually, he hadn't even known. He'd seen the girl come close and he seen her swing the knife, but he didn't feel anything hit him. It didn't even hurt. But as soon as Dean told him that he was bleeding and that he was cut, the pain began to seep in slowly. There were napkins in a brown box on the shelf next to Sam. Dean grabbed a handful and slipped them under Sam's jacket and onto the gash on his upper arm.

Dean quickly checked over Sam, looking for any more injuries. He found none.

"Where'd she go?" Dean asked, looking around.

Sam shrugged.

"I don't know."

Dean shot him a wild look. "What'd you mean you don't know? She was just here, right?"

Sam nodded. "She disappeared, Dean. Right into thin air, man. It was weird."

Dean rolled his eyes. _Of course they can vanish; this only makes everything harder..._

Standing, Dean pulled Sam to his feet and took hold of his hand. Sam tried to pull his hand away, but Dean gripped it tighter.

"I understand that you don't wanna be treated like a kid but these things can disappear, which means that they can pop out of nowhere, too; and I'm not loosing track of you, okay? I'm not gonna let them take you," Dean says in a hushed yell. He was annoyed, it was obvious. But more than anything he was cautious. He was game-planning.

Dean tugged on Sam's arm and gestured with his head.

"C'mon."

Dean led the way out of the kitchen area. Cautiously, he looked both ways like he was crossing a street before he climbed over the counter and waited as Sam did the same. Once they were over, Dean took hold of Sam's hand again.

"Ronny's gone," he says aloud when he looks at the spot he'd left Ronald about a minute ago.

Sam shrugged. "Maybe the doors are open, now. Maybe we can go..."

Dean shook his head. "Doesn't work like that, Sam; and you know it. No way they're gonna let us out of here unless we kill these things."

Sam doesn't answer.

Beginning to walk, Dean moved quickly but at a sluggish pace.

"Dean, where are we going?"

"Shut up."

Sam frowned.

It didn't take long for Sam to figure it out for himself. Dean opened the door to the playhouse for the children. Dean had Sam go inside first, and then he got in. Dean closed the door, hoping there was a lock on it, but there wasn't one. Cursing under his breath, Dean pushed Sam gently.

"Up the slide, come on, go."

Using one arm, Sam climbed into the swirly slide and stopped in the middle. Dean climbed onto the other side and stood at the top of the slide, he watched everything. From here, he had a great view of the main part of the fast-food joint. Everything looked dangerously still. Once everything was quiet enough for Dean, he crouched down and looked down the slide to where Sam was sitting. It was clear he was scared. It was understandable, though. Sam was literally living a nightmare. Having a clown hunt him was something Sam always feared and it was always in his dreams, and that's where he hoped they'd say. Too bad, it came to life.

"How you holding up, tiger?"

Sam stared out the other end of the slide, afraid that if he looks away, Ronald might appear at the end of it when he looked back.

He shrugged. "'M scared," Sam admitted.

Dean smiled. Not because it was funny, but because he didn't know what else to do. Something obviously stronger than both of them was trying to kill them. Dean was fresh out of ideas; he didn't know what to do.

"It'll be okay," Dean assures his brother, rubbing his shoulder. "Let me see your arm."

Even though the pain was in full force right now, Sam lifted his injured arm and showed it to Dean. Just like the rest of the McDonalds, if was dark inside of the play area. But there was enough light for Dean to see the cut. It was long, but not deep. He may need stitches, but that's it.

"You'll be okay, it's not that bad."

Sam opened his mouth to reply when they heard footsteps inside of the play-pin they were in. Sam gasped.

Thinking quickly, Dean slid into the slide. He covered Sam's mouth with his hand, trying to keep quiet himself.

Out the end of the slide, Dean and Sam could see the clown's feet walking. It moved slowly, looking for them. Both Dean and Sam could hear their hearts pounding in their ears and they wondered if it was so loud that Ronald could hear it too in this silence. Under his hand, Dean felt a wetness. He leaned forward to see that Sam was crying. Not that obnoxious crying you see girls do in horror movies. It was a silent cry. Just a few stray tears as he tried not to let his fear take over his present mind. Dean put his finger to his mouth in a shushing gesture, telling him to stay quiet. Sam nodded, trying not to make a sound. They were hoping that if they were quiet enough, Ronald would think they were somewhere else and leave the play- pin.

The clown walked past the slide. So close, the side of his pants scraped the side of the slide. Out of fear, Sam gripped Dean's wrist.

Ronald was just about to leave, not seeing either Dean or Sam. He opened the door to go search the rest of the place. Just as he stepped foot out the door, about to leave-

- Dean's cell phone rang...

* * *

_Oh c'mon, Dean! Everyone knows to turn off your phone when evil clowns are trying to kill you! And poor Sam; he's completely terrified :(_

_***Announcer's Voice* On next week's episode: ** Sam learns to fly and Dean plays hide and seek (: _

_Until next episode, kids..._

_Not only do I love to write, but I love to read, too. Don't worry about trying to make your reviews short and sweet. Write everything that comes to mind! I love the input and the feedback._

_Don't be shy; I don't bite. Review!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note: _Again, thanks so much for the reviews. You guys rock (:

_**Last Time...**_

Just when the boys thought they dodged a bullet by hiding in the slide, Dean cell phone rang; bring attention to themselves... way to go, Dean =_=

_You may now return to your regularly scheduled program (:_

_

* * *

_**-Chapter Three:**

_Damn it!_

Everyone froze for a second. The only thing breaking the silence was Dean's ringing cell phone. Sam was staring up at him, complete fear in his eyes, waiting for Dean to do something. But Dean didn't know what to do. He had to think, and he had to think quickly. The door to the play-pin closed and there were footsteps heard though the ringing of Dean's phone. Quickly, Dean pressed the button on his phone, silencing it. But it didn't matter by now. Ronald knew they were in there and he'd stop at nothing to kill them both.

With his other hand still covering Sam's mouth, Dean pointed his finger at him.

"Stay _right_ here. Don't move. Don't say anything. Understand?" Dean instructed almost silently. His voice only loud enough for Sam to hear. Dean figured it like this: Ronald only knew that someone with a cell phone was in here. That person would be Dean. So if Dean goes out and shows himself and tried to make it look like he's the only one in here, Ronald would take him; leaving Sam safe in here. There was no telling how that was going to work out, but it was worth a try...

Dean pushed himself up. Sam put his hand on the side his leg, his face almost begging him not to go. Dean shook his head, removing Sam's hand. He gave him a look that told him to stay quiet. And then he stood up.

Ronald was on ground level staring up at Dean. His evil eyes looking him up and down, sizing him up. Dean returned the glare.

Moving toward the purple painted stairs, Ronald rushed toward Dean. With an unnoticeable glance to Sam, he suddenly remembered that Ronald couldn't come up here. If he came up to the level that Dean was on, he'd see Sam and the whole plan would be ruined. Keeping that in mind, Dean took hold of the yellow bar to the right of him and swung to the ground. His feet slammed hard on the thin carpet. Ronald stopped, trying to tell where Dean was going and what he was up to.

"Come and get it," Dean taunted, moving to the furthest side of the jungle gym; completely opposite of Ronald.

The clown moved briskly. Apparently, he was like one of those killers who walked really fast but never seemed to run. Dean smiled at that thought. Even though he was sure he could outrun either way, knowing that only made it seem easier.

Ronald crossed the swinging bridge in just enough time to Dean to make a break for the door. He yanked it open and jogged into the main part of the McDonalds. Dean smiled, looking over his shoulder expecting to see Ronald trailing miserably, trying to catch up. To his surprise, Ronald was only about a foot behind in and gaining inches. Dean picked up speed.

So much for Ronald not being able to run. Trust me, he could run. And he could run fast.

**-All Jokes Aside-**

John lifted his head up as he seen a shadow flash past the door. He might've been going crazy, but he could've sworn Dean had just ran past. John shook his head. That was crazy. He must've been seeing things, right.

Wanting to believe it, but not wanting to take any chances, John picked up his phone and dialed Dean's number again.

This time it went straight to voice mail.

Either he had turned his cell phone off or it got disconnected somehow.

Ever had that feeling in your stomach where you know something's wrong, you just can't place what it is exactly? That's how John felt. But he knew from past experiences that when he got that feeling, something was truly wrong and he needed to find out what. Stepping out of the car, he dialed Dean's number one more time. In the back of his mind he knew it wasn't going to work, but he didn't see any harm in giving it one more try. Thee time's a charm, right?

_"Hey, this is Dean. Leave a message."_

John flipped the phone closed and grunted. Yeah, something was definitely wrong.

Something in the back of John's mind told him that he'd need his sawed-off and the extra bags of rock-salt. John wasn't sure how he knew something was wrong, but he just did.

Father's instinct, maybe.

**-All Jokes Aside-**

Sam stayed in the slide, trying to slow his breathing. The one row of lights that were on in the McDonalds left a slight shadow across Sam's face. With his knees pulled up to his chest and his bleeding arm wrapped around them he sighed. Sam only knew three things at this point: one, Dean was somewhere out there trying to fight off his worst nightmare; two, his arm hurt more and more by the second; and three, he couldn't stay here. Sam may not be the strongest fourteen year old in the world, but he could sure as hell pretend to be.

Dean was in trouble, that's all the motivation Sam needed.

Sam's eyes darted every which-way, keeping a lookout for anything that might've entered the pay area without him noticing. He let out a deep breath, keeping himself calm. Sam leaned forward in the direction he seen Dean run off in, wondering if he was still in sight. Of course, he wasn't. Sam rolled his eyes and decided it was time for him to leave. Sam felt he _had _to do something. He couldn't just let Dean do all of this by himself. He had to help in any way he could.

_'Stay right here. Don't move...'_

Dean's voice echoed in the back of Sam's mind, but he shook his head, knocking it out.

Without using his hurt arm, Sam pulled himself to the top of the slide. Only his head was exposed, but just a little. He peeked out on either side, making sure the coast was clear. When he seen it was, Sam climbed completely out of the slide and crouched down. He looked over through the big glass windows that surrounded the play pin and examined the direction that Dean went in. He didn't see anything. Not one thing. Not even a shadow. That worried Sam.

But it also showed him that nothing was near him. He felt it was safe enough for him to stand up, he began to walk down the stairs that were adjacent to the slide he had just come out of. As Sam walked, the silence was his worst enemy. Any little sound he made seemed to be amplified and echoed all over. Even though Sam was pretty sure all of that was in his head, he still felt the need to be as silent as a church mouse.

Finally, Sam was on ground level again and began to make his way to the door.

He put his hand on the handle and opened it. Of course, as fate would have it, the door squeaked. Sam froze. When Dean opened the door it was silent. When the crazy clown opened the door it was silent. But when Sam opens the door? Of course it squeaks.

Sam's eyes bounced off the walls, making sure that he was still alone. It seemed he was.

Being as quiet as he could, Sam walked forward, keeping a sharp eye out for anything that moved even the slightest bit. Sam stated forward and came to s stop when he seen someone banging on the door. The person was just a shadow from Sam's angle and he wasn't sure if he could get close enough to find out who the person was. His gut was screaming at him to go back in the slide where it's safe and just wait for Dean. Dean had promised he'd come back for Sam, and he believed it. But his brain was telling him that he needed to find his brother. And frankly, Sam was just too damn nosy to sit around and wait. He needed to be apart of the action. He needed to feel like he'd helped; even if it was in the slightest bit.

The banging on the door snapped him out of his thoughts and back to reality. Blinking a few times, Sam walked closer. By the time he had finally got close enough to see that his father was the one knocking at the door, he already began running. Sam reached the door and put his hands to the glass.

"Dad, you gotta help us!" Sam yelled.

It seemed like John couldn't hear what he was saying because his mouth was moving quick. He was probably giving Sam instructions or saying something about getting Dean, but Sam couldn't hear him. All he seen was a bunch of mouth movements. The clown must've made the place sound proof because Sam couldn't hear his father and apparently John couldn't hear him either. John pointed down to the door handle. Sam didn't see it, though because he was too busy yelling at his dad to come help him. Getting frustrated, John bangs on the glass. Sam stops and watches carefully. John points at the handle again and make a movement like someone opening a door.

Sam shook his hand and shrugged.

"It's locked. We're locked inside!"

John's face showed confusion. He couldn't hear him. John put his hand to his ear, telling him to say it again.

Instead of talking, Sam tugged on the door, showing him that he and Dean were locked in and that John was locked out.

"Damn it," John cursed. He looked down at the gun in his hand for a second as the tried to think of a plan. He looked back up slowly and Sam seen his eyes suddenly go wide like a deer in headlights. His hands banged on the glass. He yelled something.

_'Sam, look out!'_

Just then, Sam felt his whole body being violently lifted into the air and jerked backwards into the tables. His arms and his legs flung everywhere as he went through the air and his back was the first thing to some in contact with the table. He hit it hard, knocking all the air out of his lungs. Immediately, his back stung and so did his legs and arms. But he couldn't move. It would only hurt more. With blurry eyes, Sam looked back over in the direction of where his father was. He couldn't see him anymore.

Faintly, Sam heard footsteps. He prayed it was Dean.

It wasn't.

It was a man. He, too, had pure black eyes and wore the McDonalds uniform.

_How many of them are there?_

Sam felt his vision beginning to go black as the man reached down for him. Sam felt his hands on his sides, lifting him. The man put Sam over his shoulder. His head was pointed downward which didn't help his vision or is circulation at all. Suddenly he felt lightheaded. His felt his palms beginning to clam up, and his head begin to spin.

Just before Sam closed his eyes, he heard a heavy door open and them felt himself being pulled down stairs.

It was dark down there, and it only encouraged Sam to let the darkness in his mind take over.

And soon he couldn't fight it anymore, not even if he tried.

He drifted into unconsciousness.

***All Jokes Aside***

This was a really intense game of Cat and Mouse, and apparently Dean was the mouse.

He and Ronald were now in the darkest part of the kitchen and it was really creepy. Dean slid on his knees behind a tall row of boxes and held his breath.

He had lost Ronald somewhere between the slushy maker and the stove, and Dean liked to keep it that way.

Dean couldn't hear anymore footsteps, but that doesn't mean that he's alone.

A couple of feet away, Dean noticed something shiny. He reached for it, and picked it up. To his advantage it was a knife. But could he use it? Ronald and these other freaks can disappear; what are the chances that being cut with a knife or shot with a bullet would even affect them? Silently, Dean cursed.

In the background, Dean heard a sound. He wasn't sure why he was so sure, but he knew it was Ronald. So he crawled on his knees behind an island in the middle on the kitchen, right where he had found Sam earlier. Dean crouched down and peeked around the side of it. Nothing on the left. He slid over to check the other side. Slowly and cautiously, he peeked again. Nothing on the right.

Dean sighed in relief.

But he wasn't out of the woods yet. Ronald was still in here. Dean just didn't know where. But everything was quiet. Sure, that technically had no meaning, but Dean seen that as a green light. He stood and bolted toward the front of the kitchen that would lead him to the main area, that would lead him to the pay pin where he had left Sam. Safely, Dean made it to the corner.

He walked around it and stopped dead in his tracks. He felt his heart skip a beat and himself gasp a little in surprise.

Ronald stood right in front of him. There was blood on his mouth. Dean prayed to God it wasn't Sam's blood.

Evilly, Ronald the clown smiled at Dean. He grabbed the hand Dean had the knife in and smiled again.

Ronald leaned in close, making sure Dean heard him clearly.

The clown only spoke one word, but it sent a chill down Dean's spine.

In the scariest tone Dean had ever heard, the clown whispered, "Gotcha."

* * *

_Yeah, so they're both trapped? Usually that's not good..._

_***Announcer's voice' On Next Week's Episode: **Dean finds out Sam's new magic trick..._

_Remember, I love to read what you think!_

_Don't be shy; I don't bite. Review ! (:_


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's Note: _Now I know what you're thinking: that was a quick update! Right? Well it comes with a price, unfortunately. I won't be able to update again till Thursday or Friday morning. Sorry guys. But thanks for the reviews. Hopefully you keep them coming!

_**Last Time...**_

After a riveting game of Hide and Seek, Ronald decided he had enough and trapped Dean. Sam had a bit of a run-in with one of Ronald's workers...

_You may now return to your regularly scheduled program (:_

_

* * *

_**-Chapter Four:**

"Hiya, Ronald," Dean says sheepishly. Dean's back was pressed against the tile on the wall. The coolness of it seeped through his shirt and caused a shiver to run down his spine. He pushed his head into the tile, trying to create space between him and Ronald's face. Dean's eyes dropped to the clown's blood stained lips. His once messed up makeup had become even worse.

The hand that Dean held the knife in was gripped tighter by Ronald. His pointer and middle finger dug into the underside of Dean's wrist. He pressed so hard it drew blood. The clowns thumb pressed into Dean's bone, causing Dean to bite his lip to keep from crying out. Seeing Dean in pain didn't make Ronald want to stop. If anything, he pressed harder and harder until the knife slipped out of Dean's grip and fell to the floor, breaking the silence.

Just then, the clown lightened his grip. With his huge clown shoe, he kicked the knife deeper into the kitchen, making it vanish into the darkness. Dean's head turned to the side as he watched it slide away from him.

In one quick move, Dean dipped and slid over, out from under the clown's blocking arms. He spun once, trying to make sure the clown didn't lay a hand on him and then he dropped to the floor suddenly when he caught the clown's fist coming to make contact with his face. Instead of punching him, he punched the wall.

Once on the floor, Dean placed his foot behind Ronald's and pushed forward. Ronald lost balance and came crashing to the floor. It was a wonder he hadn't fell earlier, the shoes he was wearing were the size of boats.

Trying to imitate what he seen in movies, Dean tried to dive over Ronald to get to the knife. That didn't work out too well. Ronald stopped him mid-dive with his arm. It crashed into his midsection. Momentarily, Dean could only see black dots, but they were wiped away in a windshield wiper motion as he collapsed onto the clown.

"Oh," Dean moaned, pushing himself up. "Damn."

Quickly, Dean gathered himself and climbed back on Ronald. He punched him once and instantly felt his finger make a cracking sound as soon as it came in contact with it. In a boomerang movement, Dean's hand bounced off Ronald's face and instantly Dean brought it to his chest and held it.

The clown laughed.

With one swift movement, he bucked and tossed Dean into the wall, knocking his head against it hard. He slid down to the floor, blinking hard. The black dots were back again and Dean shook his head to clear them.

Ronald stood.

Forcing himself, Dean stood, too.

But he didn't wait to see what Ronald was going to do. He bolted onto the darkness of the kitchen area. In the dark, he felt ahead of him like a blind person until he came to the counter. He dropped to the floor, and pressed himself against it as he crawled. He followed the counter until it stopped and sat down. Still, he held his hand at his chest, the pain beginning to seep in, the more he had a chance to think about it.

In the distance, Dean heard Ronald coming. He knew it was him, too. The sound of his shoes gave it away. They had a certain _clunk _to them that only a ten-pound-shoe like that could. With his other hand, Dean felt from something around him. His hands swiped at the ground as he looked for something- anything- to use against Ronald.

Not feeling anything on the ground, he raised his hand up above his head and searched the countertop. His hand brushed against a handle and pushed it away some. He tried again, this time grabbing it.

_Clunk...clunk...clunk..._

Ronald was getting closer. Dean took hold of whatever he was grabbing at and brought it down with him. He tapped the tip of it and felt that it was shiny. It was another knife, but it was definitely a lot smaller than the other one he had; but this would have to do.

_Clunk...clunk...clunk..._

Dean's breath hitched in his throat when he saw the huge shoes at his side. Ronald was facing the other way, though; suspecting that Dean ran off in the other way. Seeing this as his only chance, Dean fixed his grip on the knife and prepared. He counted to three in his head, then used all his might to stab the knife into the clowns calf. Abruptly, Ronald jerked backwards, but fell forward. His huge hand was tugging at the knife in his leg.

Stepping over the injured clown, Dean made his way for the front. He didn't even look back to see if Ronald was chasing him. Honestly, he didn't care. The only thing on his mind was going back for Sam and making sure he was okay.

"I'll find you!" Ronald promised, still struggling with the knife in his calf. "You can't run you bastard! You can't run from me!"

Dean doesn't listen, though. Instead, he trots over to the play-pin where he left Sam. He makes sure to be quiet, as not to draw attention to himself.

Once he reaches the play-pin he opens the door slowly, making sure it didn't squeak.

"Sammy?"

Nothing. Not one sound.

Dean lets the door fall closed as he walks over to the front of the slide and looks up it.

"Sam, it's me. C'mon we gotta fi-"

Dean stops mid-sentence when he realizes he's talking to no one.

He feels his eyebrows rise.

"Sam!" he says a little louder, but not too loud.

Again, nothing but silence answers him.

Dean drops his head.

"Damn it, Sam. Why the hell don't you ever listen?"

***All Jokes Aside***

"What're we gonna do with him?" Harvey, the fry cook, asked. He was young with dark brown hair and deep blue eyes. Before he was turned, he was a straight A student and the kicker on his high school football team.

Dagger, the man who had brought Sam to them, shrugged. Dagger was the most faithful to Ronald, but he also was the one with the biggest heart. He didn't mind hurting a couple of people, but he usually regretted it in a couple minutes. Ronald told him constantly that it was something he would grow out of.

Sam was slumped on the ground. His head rested on the wet brick wall next to him. His mouth was open slightly as he breathed in and out slowly. Sam's injured arm had been wrapped in a white bandage and his jacket had been removed. He was cold, it was freezing down there. Almost 30 degrees.

"Is he cooperative?" Sugar asked. She was the one who had taken their order earlier. She, too, had been turned, but it wasn't recently. Her soul had been this way for decades and decades, but the body was new. She had been using poor Susan's body as a suit for a couple months now.

"Doubt it," Harvey says, rubbing his eye.

"He's a kid," Dagger says, watching Sam's sleeping form.

"Those are usually the ones you have to look out for," chimes in Angel as he walked down the stairs. Even though Dagger was the most loyal, Angel was definitely the leader when Ronald wasn't around, and sometimes when he was around. Angel was the most spontaneous, probably because he's been around the longest. But being around for centuries didn't just make him wise, it made him deadly and dangerous. He had seen every trick in the book and didn't hesitate to snap your neck if you provoked him. Everyone but Harvey feared him, but that's only because he had a sweet spot for him.

Angel, in contrary to his name, was pure evil. The body that Angel wore was one of a biker. His hair was long and pulled into a ponytail. He always wore the leather jacket, and only took it off when completely and utterly necessary.

"Wake up," Angel commanded, slapping the side of Sam's face.

Sam stirred a little. His eyes blinked open and he stared up at Angel.

"Who... who are you?" Sam mumbled, trying to get his eyes back into focus.

Suddenly, a strong backhand stung his lips.

"I ask the questions around here."

Sam was quiet. Tears swelled in his eyes as he looked up at Angel in fear. Angel loved that look. It proved to him that he was the one in charge, the one to give orders and expect them to be carried out properly.

"What's your name?" Angel asked.

Sam licked his lips, but didn't answer. Rolling his eyes, Angel sighed. "Speak," he commanded.

Sam bit his lip as he tried to find his voice. "Sam," he whispers.

Angel laughed as he stood. "That's cute."

"Why?" Sam says, but instantly regretted it when another slap stung his lips again.

"Did I tell you to speak?" Angel boomed.

Dagger cleared his throat. "Maybe you should leave the child alone, Ang."

Seemingly offended, Angel makes a sound of disgust. He looked back down at Sam, his black eyes staring him down.

"Maybe you should go get the room ready, _Dag_."

Both Dagger and Sugar's mouth dropped open.

"What?" Dagger says. "You're gonna Water-board him?" he asks in astonishment.

Angel's smirk was his only reply.

"He didn't do anything. What's your reason?" Sugar asks.

Angel shrugs. "I don't like his attitude. And don't try to sound all sympathetic, Sugar. You love doing this so you can drop the innocent act, nobody's buying it."

Dagger shakes his head. "That's not a reason, Angel. I think-"

Angel puts up his hand to silence him.

He flicks his hand. "I don't ask twice, Dagger. Go."

With that, Dagger heads off into the back room to set up. Just before he leaves the room, he shoots Sam a quick look of sympathy. A look that says _'Sorry, kid. You don't deserve this..'_

* * *

_Angel's one cold-hearted thing, isn't he? I can tell that he's going to be a joy to be around..._

_Let's play: WORD OF THE DAY! Yay!_

_Waterboarding_- is a form of torture that consist of immobilizing the subject on his/her back with the head inclined downwards; water is then poured over the face and into breathing passages, thus triggering the choking reflex, making the captive experience the sensations of drowning.

Didn't you feel intelligent reading that? lol

That was straight from Google, if you're wondering...

_***Announcer's Voice* On Next Week's Episode: **Sam gets more water than he can handle..._

_Don't be shy; I don't bite. Review! (:_


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Note: _You're reviews make me smile :D Thanks a lot guys _._

_**Last Time...**_

We met 'not so angel-like' Angel and his friends Dagger, Harvey, and Sugar. And Dean finds that Sam has went missing...

_You may now return to your regularly scheduled program (:_

_

* * *

_

**-Chapter Five:**

Darkness.

Sam was pretty sure his eyes were open, but he couldn't see anything. He blinked a few times; even rubbed them. Nothing. A few thoughts went through his head, but none of them told him why he was suddenly alone in the darkest room he had ever seen- or not seen- whatever. He was sitting on the floor. He could feel the coolness of the tile under him; and his back was against a wall. It had a roughness to it. Brick, maybe?

His mind was empty; like someone completely cleaned it out. It even took him a while to realize what happened. And even longer to realize that he was in danger.

_Alright, chill out_, Sam told himself. _What do you remember?_

Sam thought.

He remembered his little run-in with Angel. Sam could see his face clearly. He was pale; Vampire-like. His eyes were pure black, and he looked mean. He was tall. Six feet maybe. He had long hair, down past his shoulders and it was dark brown; almost black. He was dressed like a biker. He had the leather jacket and everything. The next person that crossed Sam's mind was Dagger. He was tall, too. Not only that, he was big, too. His head was shaved completely bald. Sam remembered seeing the blue veins on his head sticking out. Sam shivered. Even though Dagger looked evil, too, there was something tender about him. Maybe it was the tender, almost remorseful look he gave Sam was he exited the room. There was another guy. His name was Harvey. He looked like someone Dean would go to school with. He looked athletic, smart, and a ladies' man. He followed orders like a trained puppy, though. Sam bet he never dared to argue. Lastly, it was the girl they called Sugar. She was the one who took their order then they first arrived. She had medium length hair that was pulled into a ponytail. She wore the McDonalds uniform and almost looked like a regular human. The only thing that really stuck out on her was her eyes. They were bright green, almost a lime color. Around her eyes were dark, like really thick makeup. That's what made her different, though. Everyone else's eyes were black. But not her. Maybe she the leader or something? Whatever she was, she didn't look like she belonged with these type of people-or whatever they are.

Even though it was dark, Sam seen this as his only get away. He used his hands to stand. His legs felt like jello and it took him a while; he had to put his hand out to steady himself and assure that he would go falling back to the floor. It took him a minute, but he found his balance. He didn't even get a half of step when he felt something resist against his walking and pull him to the ground. Just as his hands came in contact with the floor, a light came on in the room. It happened so quick, it momentarily blinded Sam. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second then opened them slowly.

"Kid's awake."

There were shadows on the wall, proving to Sam that he wasn't alone. He heard voice, but there was something about the sound that made Sam unable to understand.

Outside, there was a bang, then the sound of metal scraping. Sam staggered back toward the wall, waiting to see who had entered the room. To no one's surprise, it was Angel. He walked in slowly, in his hand he carried a bucket. He wore gloves and an evil smirk across his pale face. HIs black boots scuffed the ground as he made his way to Sam. Following immediately behind Angel was Sugar. She no longer had that innocent look to her. Her green eyes shined even brighter as she brought in what looked like a hose.

"Nice to see you conscious," Angel says.

Sam stays silent.

Angels smiles. "You know," he takes a few steps closer. "We know all about you."

Sam blinked, not sure how he should react to that. Should he feel scared? Worried? Nothing?

"Cat got your tongue?" Sugar called from the other side of the room. Sam's eyes drifted over to her. He seen her bending over a wooden contraption. It had four hooks, two at the top and two at the bottom. There was a semi-circle toward the top of it was an unhooked strap hanging off the side of it. Sam gulped. She stood and went over to the wall. She tightened the end of the hose into the wall and pressed a button. She stood slowly and smiled at Sam tauntingly. "We scared you that much?" she asked, with shock in her voice. "We hardly drugged you."

Sam felt a lump in his throat.

Drugged?

Sugar smiled. "Don't look so worried, kid. You were only out for fifteen- twenty minutes at the most. Just so we can set up."

Sam cricked his neck as he watched them tweak screws on the wooden contraption. Angel had handed Sugar the bucket and she filled it with water.

_What are they doing?_

When the water reached the brim, Sugar fixed her vision on Sam again. "You came here with someone, didn't you?"

She laughed, already knowing the answer. She didn't even give Sam a chance to respond. "Dean, right?"

Sam felt his mouth drop open. "Where is he?" he asked in a soft voice.

Sugar let out a fake laugh and clapped her hands together. "So he _can_ talk!"

Angel power walked over to Sam and took out a key from his back pocket. He leaned forward and unchained Sam's foot. He lifted Sam and threw him over his shoulder. Sam's arms and legs flailed.

"Put me down," he demanded, kicking at Angel.

They walked to the wooden thing on the floor and Angel put him down with more force than needed. Sam felt the air rush out his lungs when his back slammed against the wood. As much as he could, Sam swatted at Angels hands and kicked his feet at Sugar, but it didn't work. They were stronger than him; way stronger. Without much effort, they hooked and tied both of Sam's hands. They stretched them out straight and strapped his wrists to the board he was lying on. He couldn't move his hands anymore. Then he felt his feet being strapped to the wood, too. He could no longer kick at Sugar or swat at Angel. He looked up and seen Angel holding a black cloth bag. He lifted Sam's head and pulled it over. Suddenly, Sam couldn't see. There was only two holes on the bag and they were right where his nostrils are. Angel pushed Sam's head back down and he felt something strap around his neck, immobilizing it.

Then there was only the sound of a lever being pushed and water flowing again.

"We want to know who you belong to. Tell us what you're planning!" Angel screamed.

Sam was confused. He would've shook his head if he was able to move it.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about-"

"Liar!"

Freezing cold water covered Sam's face. It ran into his nose and into his mouth. Sam felt like he couldn't breathe. He coughed, and water sprayed back out. He gasped, trying to get his breathing under control.

"Tell us what you know."

Sam was quiet.

The only reply to him was more water. It ran over his face and he held his breath, but something about the way the water was flowing gave Sam this light-headed feeling. He couldn't bring himself to breathe even though he realized that the water wasn't actually chocking him. It just felt like it was. Either way, he couldn't hold his breath for much longer. But soon enough it stopped.

"Had enough?" Angel asked.

Sam couldn't see it, but Sugar shook her head. "Do it again."

Obeying, Angel poured water again. This time it was actually chocking him. It flowed into his nose again and he could feel it slipping into his throat and cutting off his air. Sam couched violently. So hard his chest burned and his nose stung. His squeezed his hands into fists as he tried to fight the sensation, but it failed miserably.

"Start talking!"

Sam couldn't talk even if he wanted to. After four solid minutes of 'almost drowning' Sam didn't have energy to do anything; and the freezing temperature didn't help any. It only made matters worse. The water was freezing cold, the room as freezing cold, Sam was freezing cold. He could feel his body shake vigorously. Sam's breath became shorter and shorter until they turned into puppy-like panting. His stomach hurt and all the water and coldness gave him the worse migraine you could ever imagine.

The water stopped and repulsively Sam sucked in a huge breath of air, but it only felt like a stabbing in his chest. He let it out slowly but it only made it feel worse.

"He's not talking. What now?" Angel asked Sugar.

Angel shrugged, filling up the bucket to water Sam again. Sugar put her hand on Angel's arm. She shook her head.

"I don't think he can take anymore."

Both Angel and Sugar look down at Sam. His breathing uneven and labored. His hands were no longer curled into fist, instead they lay loosely.

Sam could feel them unhooking him from the board. Angel takes the mask off of Sam's head and loosens the strap that was keeping his neck steady. Once it's off, Sam's head falls to the side. His face, hair and upper body are all wet. His body shook. His eyes were heavy and were begging him to let them close. He had to will himself over and over to keep them open.

Just outside the door, there was yelling. Something about it seemed familiar to Sam.

"Where the hell is my brother you freaks?"

If Sam had the energy, he would've smiled. Dean was here.

There was more yelling and the sound of things being dropped.

The heavy door swung open. The yelling got louder.

"Don't fucking touch me!"

There were sounds of a scuffle and someone falling to the ground.

"Sam!"

More sounds.

"Sam! What the- get off me! What the hell are you doing? Unchain me! Sam!" Dean yelled, trying to break free from Ronald's grip. He had found Dean in the slide about ten minutes ago and felt it was best if he brought him down here so they could keep an eye on him.

"Sam, answer me!"

His eyes got heavier. Sam would if he could, but he just didn't have the energy. He was too tired.

He could hear the sound of the chain ruffling as Dean pulled on it rapidly. "Let me go!"

Sam felt arms around his sides, lifting him.

He was raised and fling over someone's shoulder.

"Put him down, you bastard!"

He was being moved. The sharpness of the person's shoulder dug into his stomach, making him feel worse.

Then he was being lowered and into someone's arms. Someone who was much gentler and warm. The person wrapped their arm around his shoulder.

"Damn it," someone cursed. Dean. "He's freezing."

Sam heard footsteps walking away.

"Well aren't you going to help him?" Dean yelled, anger in his voice. "You can't just leave him like this!"

More footsteps,but they were fading.

"Dagger will be here in about an hour. He will tend to him," A mysterious voice said just before a door slamed shut.

Instantly after that, the lights were cut and they were in complete darkness.

But that didn't matter much to Sam.

Darkness is just what he wanted.

* * *

_What's gotten into Sugar? I thought she was the nice one... Oh well. No one's really nice nowadays, right?_

_***Announcer's Voice* On Next Week's Episode: **We get some background history on 'what' exactly are keeping Sam and Dean. It's unexpected, trust me. Don't tell anyone, but I read ahead (:_

_Don't be shy; I don't bite. I wanna hear all of your questions and you're predictions and speculations. Write me a paragraph if you have to. Review ! (:_


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's Note: _Thanks for the reviews. Really, they mean the world to me. It's the only way I can tell if you're liking the story or not; because contrary to popular belief: I'm not a mind reader O.O

_**Last Time...**_

After a little water torture, Sam and Dean are reunited...

_You may return to your regularly scheduled program (:_

_

* * *

_**-Chapter Six:**

"Hey; you okay?"

Dean sits on the dark. Sam's lying next to him with his back turned. He had rolled off Dean as soon as the attackers left the room. Sam hadn't said a word. Maybe he was too scared, or just too weak. Dean wasn't sure. Dean's gut was telling him to leave Sam alone for a while, he'll talk when he's ready; but Dean's heart was telling that he at least needed to check on him, make sure he's okay. Giving in to his heart, he reaches out and shakes Sam slightly.

"Sam," he calls.

Three seconds of silence goes by before he feels Sam roll over. In the darkness, he can't really see him. But he can feel Sam looking at him, waiting for him to finish. Dean know he needs to keep his voice down, there's no telling who's listening.

"How do you feel?" Dean asks.

Dean couldn't see it, but Sam shrugged. "I'll be okay. I'm just tired."

Nodding, Dean scratches the side of his head.

"What'd they do to you? Why are you wet?" Dean touches the sleeve of Sam's shirt as if it proved that Sam was still soaked with water.

Sam looked down at the floor. He didn't want to talk, really. Who knew water could do so much damage? Sam pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth before beginning to talk.

"You know what thing I was tied to?"

Dean nodded, but then remembered that they couldn't see each other and said, "Yeah."

"They held me down and put this bag thing over my head and it only had nose holes cut into it. I couldn't see anything," Sam swallowed. "Once they toes my hands and my feet, I heard water turn on. I didn't know what they were gonna do. They were talking to me, asking what I knew and stuff. They knew my name; they knew yours, too. Then they poured water on my face. Like, right into my nose and my mouth. I couldn't breathe. And I kept having this feeling... like I was gonna drown or something. I kept getting lightheaded. And they kept pouring the water and asking what I knew and who I belonged to and what we were planning." Sam shook his head. "I didn't know what they were talking about, so they just kept pouring the water. And just then I felt like I was gonna pass out, I mean, I couldn't breathe, they stopped. The girl said that I had enough...that's when you came in."

"Huh," was Dean's only reply.

Sam stayed silent.

"You know their names? The ones who did this to you?"

Sam stretched his leg out, trying his best to be comfortable on the hard, concrete floor. "Angel and Sugar."

Dean laughs a little. "That's ironic," he mumbled.

Smiling, Sam turns over onto his back. "So what're we gon' do?" his voice is tired and slow.

Shaking his head, Dean shrugs. "Dunno. We can't even find the door in this light, let alone try to make a getaway."

Sam didn't answer.

Remembering earlier, Dean slaps Sam's arm. "And where the hell did you go? I told you to stay in the _slide_."

Again, Sam stays silent. Dean shakes his head. "You don't listen, man," he mumbled.

"S'ry," Sam apologizes. "I got worried."

"No, you got scared."

Sam rolls his eyes. "Whatever."

There was silence. Dean grunted audibly, he knew this was no time to argue, but what else are they supposed to do in a pitch black room?

With his head still on the wall, Dean turns it in the direction was in. He touches his shoulder, getting his attention.

"I'm not mad at you; you know what, right?" Dean says.

Rolling on his side to face his brother, Sam looks up at him. "Yeah," he says, slight sarcasm in his voice.

"It's just that I told you to stay there so you wouldn't get hurt, Sam. Going out there was stupid," Dean speaks softly in an even, relaxing tone.

Sam would've sat up if he knew it wouldn't zap all the energy he had left. "But you when out there...," he contradicts.

Dean smiles. "I have the right to do something stupid."

"Why?"

"I'm older."

Sam's eyebrows scrunch together and his mouth drops. "That means nothing and you know it."

Dean nodded. "Sure it does. It means I gotta look out for you-"

"And I can't look out for you?" Sam asks. "Just because I'm younger doesn't mean I'm worthless, Dean."

Dean was quiet for a second. But before he could respond Sam continued. "You don't have to worry about me so much. I can handle it."

Laughing sarcastically, Dean brings his knees up to his chest. "Yeah, you handled almost drowning like a pro, Sammy."

Sam looked away.

Instantly, Dean felt bad. "Look, dude. I know you can fight; hell, I taught you. But all I'm saying is that these people are dangerous and I don't want them messing with you," Dean let out a sigh and searched his brain. Damn, he was bad at these types of conversations. "It's just... you're my little brother, Sam. You can try to look after me all you want, just know that I'm looking after you, too-"

Right then, a bring light same on suddenly, stinging both Dean and Sam's eyes.

Angel, Dagger, and Ronald walked through the heavy door. Angel clapped his hands with a smile. He shook his head at the brothers.

"You know," he says. He points at them. "It's little talks like that that make you humans too _damn _cute."

Dean shot Angel an evil glare.

"I take it you're Angel?"

He snapped his fingers. "Bingo."

Dean looks over Angel's shoulder to Ronald. Sarcastically, Dean waves at him. "Hey Ronnie."

Ronald walks over to Dean. Sam staggers back, not wanting to be anywhere near Ronald.

"You've got a smart mouth, kid."

Taking notice of Sam's body language, Ronald turns to him. "Awe, look. He's scared."

Ronald stretches his hand out, going to touch Sam. Dean gripped his wrist and twisted it. In his eyes, Dean stared coldly at Ronald, simply daring him to touch his brother.

"Back off," Dean warns, letting go of Ronald's wrist slowly.

Once Dean had completely released Ronald's wrist, Ronald punched Dean clean in the face.

Retaliating, Dean goes to swing back, but Ronald catches his fist and bends it backwards. Dean's face scrunches in pain, but he doesn't dare to cry out.

"I don't think you understand your place here," Ronald applies more pressure to Dean's twisted fist. "You are nothing but a pet, a servant, a _slave_ here. You will not speak unless spoken to. You will tell us the information we want to hear and you'll do what we way, when we say."

Finding his voice, Dean chokes out, "Screw you."

Ronald punches him again. Dean holds the side of his face in pain.

"I will not accept that type of disrespect from you!"

Stepping in, Sam clears his throat. "What do you want from us?"

Letting go of Dean's wrist, Ronald turns toward Sam. He reaches out and touches the side of Sam's face, knowing that's all he has to do to scare the hell out of him.

"You must ask permission to speak."

Sam looked over at Dean.

"Fuck you," Dean blurts out. He blocks Ronald's smack.

Ronald smiles. "See?" he asks Angel and Dagger who stood in the same spot, watching all of this unfold. "I knew these two were gold."

Seeing no other way of getting on with this, Sam says, "Permission to speak?"

"Sam-" Dean says in a warning tone, telling him not to give in to what's happening.

From the corner of his eye, Sam gives Dean a look that tells him to shut up.

Ronald smiles. "Permission granted."

Sam looks at him with a weird look on his face. "What information do you want from us?"

"We want to know who you belong to and what are your plans for ones like us?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't under-"

Ronald smacks Sam in the side of the head.

"Silence!"

After a few seconds of silence Ronald continues. "We heard about you. And we know what you're capable of."

Dean shakes his head. "What the hell _are_ you?"

Ronald smacks him. "You did not ask permission."

"Screw you and your permission," Dean mumbles.

Continuing, Sam says, "Permission to speak?"

Ronald nods.

"What are you?" he asks, not only did Dean want to know, but Sam was curious, too.

Ronald stands.

"Us?" he smiles. "We are Adlets."

Sam's face showed confusion.

"Adlets," Ronald repeats. "We're half Canine. We can take human form when we choose. You see, we were all once regular people. But we were turned into this. All turned by someone in higher power than any of us."

Dean chuckles. "You're a friggin' _dog_? Really?"

Ronald ignored him.

Sam nodded. "Why do you want us?"

"I've already told you. We want you're information, and once we get it, we'll want you completely. We will make you one of our own."

Both Sam and Dean exchanged glances.

"You're gonna turn us?"

Ronald shrugged. "If we choose. We could use strong ones like you."

Sam gulped.

Ronald shook his head. "But first we need to get to know you, and before that we need to tame you, and before that we need to _break_ you."

Both brothers flinched a little.

"Just remember...we feast on blood. _Human_ blood. And we will feed on you anytime we want," Angel chimes in from the background.

Sam swallows hard, his throat suddenly dry. "But- but if you feed on us...won't that turn us?"

Ronald shook his head. "It'll only turn you if we inject our venom into you. But our venom is something we can control. Unfortunately for you, you won't be able to tell if we injected our venom until at lease thirty minutes after we've already bitten you. Anytime we feed on you is your potential turning point."

Opening his mouth, Ronald allowed his Canine teeth to take place of his other teeth. His fangs resembled Vampire teeth, but they were much bigger. They glistened in the light.

Both Ronald and Angel laughed as they headed for the door.

"Dagger, check the little one. I can feel his fever from here. Once you're done, come back up. We need to start planning," Ronald instructs as he begins to exit the room.

Following orders, Dagger walks over to Dean and Sam and for the first time they notice that he carried a medical bag in his hand.

"Don't get too attached, Dag. I know how you are with these humans. Just remember what they are and what they're capable of," Ronald glared at the brothers quickly. "And most of all, remember that they won't be _humans_ much longer."

With that, Ronald closed the door with a hard slam, leaving Dagger to tend to Sam.

* * *

_Sooo...what'cha think? Oh yeah, and Adlets are something I found on the internet which said that they're humans with Canine-like instincts and impulses. They're supposed to be able to take the form of either a human or a Canine. So I took that idea and played with it a little to make it sort of fit the story. Hope you like it..._

_***Announcer's Voice* On Next Week's Episode: **John gets a call that'll make him rethink everything and the boys become students..._

_Also, check out my poll and let me know what you think!_

_Don't be shy; I wanna hear what you think. Review ! (:_


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's Note: _Thank you to everyone who reviewed. You guys are awesome for sticking with this... For those of you who didn't review: Ronald AND Angel are coming for you. Don't turn around.

_**Last Time...**_

"Don't get too attached, Dag. I know how you are with these humans. Just remember what they are and what they're capable of," Ronald glared at the brothers quickly. "And most of all, remember that they won't be humans much longer."

With that, Ronald closed the door with a hard slam, leaving Dagger to tend to Sam.

_You may now return to your regularly scheduled program (:_

_

* * *

_**-Chapter Seven:**

The lights were dimmed a little as soon as Angel and Ronald left the room. There's quiet in the room except for the constant dripping on the other side of the room where the hose is. Dean was sure it would annoy the hell out of him sometime within the next thirty minutes of hearing it. Amazing how something so little can have that type of effect on people.

Dagger takes a step closer and crouches next to Sam. He's quiet and smooth with his movements. Dean's watching every little things he does from the way he opens the bag or the way he fumbled through his things. Once he finds what he's looking for, Dagger looks up at Sam. He doesn't say anything as he takes the flashlight he's just gotten out of his bag and goes to reach for Sam's mouth.

"Hey man, what're you doing?" Dean asks as he puts one hand across Sam's chest and pushes him back away from Dagger's reaching hand. Instantly, Dagger stops moving and puts the flashlight down. Sam doesn't say anything, but with Dean's hand across his chest he can feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Dean takes a quick glance at him, making sure he's keeping it together. On the outside he looks fine, not one drop of fear on his face; Dean admired that.

Dagger looked down at the floor.

"I was instructed to tend to the little one," he says. His voice is scruffy and dark, but the way he speaks is gentle. He looks at Dean questioningly. Obviously, he doesn't know that he's freakishly huge and a part of a pack of animal-people that are possibly trying to kill them.

"Yeah, well after your friend's little speech, I think we'll have to pass on that. You can go," Dean says, eyeing him sharply. He feels a pushing on his arm and realizes that he still had his arm across Sam's chest and he was trying to get him to let go. Dean lets his hand fall back into his own lap as he waits for Dagger to leave.

Dagger shakes his head.

"But he's sick. I can feel it."

Quickly, Dean takes a look up at Sam. He's breathing's normal but he has a distressed look on his face. His eyes are glued to Dagger, though, wondering what he was going to do next. A thin coat of sweat is forming on his forehead, though. That sort of worried Dean, but he wasn't so desperate enough to let Dagger lay a finger on Sam just yet. But then, Dagger's words set in.

"What do you mean you can _feel_ that he's sick?"

Dagger shrugged his oversized shoulders.

"I'm not sure how to explain it. It's just that we can all feel what normal people can't. For instance, we can feel when someone's sick, or going to be sick. We can also hear heartbeats if we want to or the flowing of blood. And in this case, I can feel his fever rising," Dagger explains in the best way he can.

Both Sam and Dean exchange glances. In the back of their minds, they both had to admit that that was pretty cool.

Dean pushes the thought out of his head. "So, are you a doctor or something?"

Dagger nods. "I was once, yes. Back before I was turned into this. In my other life."

Dean swallowed, playing mental ping-pong with the two options in his head. Let him help Sam or don't let him help Sam? If Dagger's serious, then Sam could really use him. But what makes him different to the others? How can Dagger be trusted?

Seeing the distrust and uncertainty in Dean's eyes, Dagger says, "I'm not like the others, you know."

"Why's that?" Dean asks, sitting up more.

_This should be good..._, he thinks to himself.

"I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to hurt anyone. I follow orders when I have to, but that's it."

Dean blinked, waiting for him to go on.

"I'm serious. Now please, his fever's getting higher. It don't want it to get too high. Let me treat him. I won't take long," Dagger says, sincerity in his voice. He plays with the flashlight in his hand as he waits for Dean's response.

Sam looks up at Dean. Seeing as he's not going to answer, Sam shakes his head.

"Go ahead," Sam says in a soft voice. "It's okay."

Dagger nods. "Fair enough."

Just as Dagger had said, it was quick. He shined his flashlight into Sam's mouth, looking at his throat. He mumbles something under his breath that neither Sam nor Dean could quite hear. He takes hold of Sam's wrist and listens for a second or two. Then he lets his hand go and reached into his medical bag and beings out something that resembles a bag of popcorn. He shakes it a few times the presses on it for a little. He hands the bag to Dean and he's surprised by its coldness.

"Keep that on him for ten minutes then take it off for five; then put it back on. Repeat that until I come back or until the fever begins to go down," Dagger instructs.

Dean nods. "Alright."

Dagger stands, putting everything back into his bag.

"I'll be back later on tonight to check on him if I can, it depends on if I'm allowed. I'll have to confirm that with Ronald. I'll try to come back with some water, too. The little one could use some; but again, I'll have to check with Ronald."

Dean nods as he reaches over and presses the ice pack to Sam's forehead.

With that, Dagger gives one final look, and then leaves.

Letting out a breath, Dean looks down at Sam with slight confusion on his face. "He was... kinda nice," Dean says in a skeptical voice.

Sam nods. "Yeah. Didn't see that coming."

***All Jokes Aside***

John pounded on the door to the McDonalds, yelling his son's names at the top of his lungs. There were two things he was wondering at that moment: One, what the hell is in there and that did that want with his sons; and two, why isn't there anyone else around? John made a 360, he seen no cars, no lights, nothing. Everything was getting creepier and creepier by the second. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest. The worry for his son's safety was becoming greater.

Suddenly his phone rang. He fumbled to get it, hoping it was Dean or Sam calling to tell him what is happening.

"Hello? Hello?" John says.

He listens.

"Dean! What-...whoa, whoa slow down, Dean. Where are you?"

He listens again, walking back to his car to put his gun away. He sat in the driver's seat and started the car.

"How the hell did you get there? What hap-"

He was quiet again, listening. He puts his car in reverse and speeds backwards.

"Okay, okay, just stay there. It might take me a while, but I'm coming to get you. Just stay there!'

John hung up and drove out of the parking lot, racing to follow a lead that he thought his son had given him...

***All Jokes Aside***

2:09 a.m.

Sam was sleep. He was on the floor next to Dean, the ice pack still on his forehead. Dean had done just as Dagger had instructed. He kept it on for ten minutes and too it off for five, but it wasn't really working. Maybe it was Dean's imagination, but Sam's fever had gotten higher.

Dean was awake. He couldn't sleep. Not here; not now. Every so often there was movement. It must've been louder than what Dean heard because the walls were thick and he door had to weigh at least a ton for it to make so much noise when it was opened. Dean couldn't help but wonder that was doing on up there.

Just then, the door was pushed, causing a loud racket to bounce off the walls of the room they were in. By his side, Dean felt Sam jolt awake and raise his head toward the door.

In came Angel and Ronald. Each had an evil smile on their faces.

"Wakey, wakey," Angel calls, banging his fist on the door.

Sam sits up groggily, but Dean was in full alert.

"What'd you want?" Dean asks, annoyance in his voice.

Ronald laughs.

"Obviously, you have problems with memory," Ronald says in a chilling voice. He taps his chin. "Because I thought I told you both to ask for permission before you speak to me."

Dean rolls his eyes. "And I thought I told you to shove it, Giggles."

Ronald laughs again.

He and Angel approach them.

"I'm going to let that one go. Wanna know why? Because we need your information, and we need it now."

Dean looked away, breaking their eye contact.

"Is that so?" he says sarcastically.

Angel crouches down in front of them.

"Who do you belong to?" he asks in a cold tone.

Dean shrugs. "Listen, buddy. I don't know whose blood you've been sipping, but we don't belong to anybody."

Ronald and Angel exchange glances. "That's what they all say."

"We're telling the truth," Sam interjects.

Ronald's eyes glide over to him.

"Really? That's not what we heard, and we've heard all about you."

"Well you must've heard wrong, freak. We've got nothing to do with whatever you think we do," Dean explains.

Angel smacks the side of Dean's head. "I'm tired of you."

Dean punches him clean in his face, causing him to fall backwards. "Back at'cha."

Ronald grunted a loud.

"Lesson one; if you break the rules, there will be consequences!"

He takes Dean's wrists and unhooks something from the back of himself. Ronald handcuffs Dean's hands and smiled.

Dean shook the cuffs. "This is _punishment_?" he smiled tauntingly. "That's weak."

Ronald raised his eyebrows at him. Reaching over, Ronald pulls Angel back to his knees.

"As I said earlier: we need to get to know you, and before that we need to tame you, and before that we need to break you."

Both Dean and Sam were silent.

Dean shook his head. "Look, Ronnie. We don't know what the hell you're talking about which must mean that we're not a part of whatever you think someone is planning against you and your little bundle of puppies, okay. So how about you just-"

Suddenly, Ronald pulled this lightbulb shaped thing out of his pocket and shoved it into Dean's mouth. Dean tried to spit it out but Ronald kept his hand on it, pushing it further, until Dean was sure he was going to gag. Once he stopped resisting, Ronald stopped pushing.

"You see, I'm tired of dealing with you and you're talking out," Ronald twisted the end of the lightbulb-looking thing and Dean felt it beginning to expand in his mouth. The more he twisted the more it pressed on his mouth. The ends were sharp to a point and Dean could feel it piercing the roof of his mouth and his tongue. He goes to pull Ronald's wrist to make him stop twisting the end, but then he remembers that his hands are handcuffed. Ronald keeps twisting the end and Dean could feel his eyes beginning to water. He tried to take deep breaths so soothe the pain just like his father had taught him, but it wasn't working. At this point, Dean could feel blood from the roof of his mouth dripping onto his tongue. Dean was squirming now, as he did his best not to cry out and giving them the satisfaction of hearing his pain.

Sam tugs of Ronald's arm.

"Stop! Just stop, okay? We'll tell you what you want. Just stop," Sam says, pushing Ronald back.

Ronald sits back up and back-hands Sam hard.

"I'd suggest you shut up unless you want this next," Ronald warns.

Dean shakes his head the best he could without making the pain even worse, trying to tell Ronald to leave Sam alone.

"Are you gonna behave now?"

Dean didn't answer.

Ronald twisted more. The bulb with inflated so much that it's pointy ends looked like it was seconds from pushing through Dean's cheek. Ronald laughed.

"I said, are you gonna behave now?"

Dean couldn't take it anymore. Simply he had no choice. He nodded and made a noise that come out like 'uh huh'.

Smiling, Ronald tugs hard on the bulb and it slices a line on the roof of Dean's mouth.

"Agh!" Dean yelled as the blades of it swiped the inside of his mouth. He leaned forward as blood dripped out of it. He felt Sam put his hand on his back.

"Dean you okay?"

Even though he wasn't, Dean nodded, knowing it would make Sam feel a little better.

Ronald stood, the bloody, expanded bulb in his hand.

"I don't like you already," he says to Dean. But Dean's too busy trying to stop the bleeding in his mouth to pay attention.

Ronald crouches back down so that he's eye level with them. Angel, too, crouches down. Ronald reaches out and puts his hand on Sam's shoulder who immediately tries to shrug it off. Dean sees this and puts his handcuffed hands up to push Ronald's hand away, but he's in too much pain to really do anything.

"You're my favorite," Ronald says softly to Sam, who gives him a wild look and tried to back away. "As you can tell, I give all of my pack new names. You know, Angel, Sugar, Dagger, and so on. It's time for your names."

Dean lifted his head.

"Did I ever tell you I'm from German background?" Ronald asks, his voice chilling and weird.

In Dean's mind he thought, _Did anyone ever tell you no one cares? _But he didn't have the energy to say it aloud.

No one answers.

"I think I'll give you names honoring my other life," Ronald announces. He looks at Sam for a long while before he says, "_Liebling_. That's it. Liebling will be your name. It means 'favorite' in German."

Ronald turns his eyes to Dean. "And you," he says. "I will name you _Hund_. Hund means 'dog' in German. And that's what you are to me, nothing but a dog."

_Look who's talking, your cousin's probably Lassie..._

Dean would've came back with that smart reply if he didn't have the feeling that he'd choke on his own blood.

Ronald stood again, Angel did the same.

"You will answer to those names and those names only. Do you understand?"

Again, no one answered, but it must've satisfied Ronald enough because he spun on his heel and exited the room. "I'll be back for you," he says to Sam and then heads over to the door.

"Dagger! Dagger come here! Bring your bag!" Angel called up the stairs. There were heavy footsteps coming toward Dean and Sam.

"I need you to tend to them now," he said.

Dagger walks past Angel and Ronald and peeks into the room. Across the way, he sees Dean handcuffed, holding his mouth as it's bleeding into his palms and Sam leaned forward with one hand on Dean's back, trying to soothe him as much as possible, but nothing was working. Dagger grunted as he looked back at Ronald.

"What'd you do that for?"

Ronald shrugged. "He was irking my nerves."

Dagger shook his head. "So you did that? Ron, c'mon. I thought you said you wanted to keep these two?"

"I do," Ronald answers plainly. "But I said I might need to break them first. So that's what I'm doing."

Dagger opens his mouth to reply but Ronald shushes him. "I've heard enough, Dagger. Go tend to them and then head back upstairs to help me set up for them tomorrow. They've got lots to learn and I still need to figure out how much they know."

With that, Ronald walks away.

Shaking his head with a sigh, Dagger enters the room with a blank look on his face.

Sam looks down at Dean, then back at him.

"Back so soon?"

* * *

_You know, I'm starting not to like that Ronald dude. How 'bout you?_

_For all of you who **don't** speak German, you pronounce Sam's new name Liebling like Lee-bling, just in case you were wondering :D_

_***Announcer's Voice* On Next Week's Episode: **Ronald tries a different approach to getting the information form the boys._

_Don't be shy; I know you have some thoughts swimming around in your head! Write them down. Review ! (:_


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's Note: _As always, thanks for the reviews. You guys are great. For those who didn't review: well, I hope you're at least enjoying the story.

_**Last Time...**_

John leaves when he gets a call from 'Dean'... and the real Dean is in some trouble of his own: he just had 'lightbulb' torture. Also, he and Sam were given their new names.

_You may now return to your regularly scheduled program (:_

_

* * *

_**-Chapter Eight:**

"Stop moving and it won't hurt so much," Dagger says softly as he pulls the stitches through the side of Dean's mouth. Dean tries to say something but then the pain hits him hard and he's silenced. Sam sits next to him, his mouth open slightly as he watched Dagger closely, a look of disgust written on his face. He looked tired, like his eyes would close any second and he'd fall asleep. His head rocked backwards and forwards ever-so-slightly in his will to keep awake.

Dagger pulled the line one more time, closing the biggest gash in Dean's mouth. Dean breathed in sharply and mumbled something that sounded like 'this is fucking ridiculous', but neither Dagger nor Sam were sure. Dagger brought scissors to Dean's mouth and cut the line and tied the ends of it. He puts everything back into his bag and brings out a bottle of water and puts it to Dean's mouth.

"Drink this."

With Dagger's help, Dean washes out the blood in his mouth with water and spits it back out. Dagger puts the bloody needle into his bag and zips it up.

"I'm sorry," Dagger says, eyeing the floor.

Dean shrugs. "For what?"

"For Angel and Ronald and Sugar. They're not as accepting as me and Harvey are."

Sam leans back, resting his head on the wall. He waved his hand. "It's not your fault. You didn't do anything."

Nodding, Dagger stands. "I understand, but you won't get an apology from them, so I decided to give you one on their behalf."

Shrugging, Dean says, "Wasn't really expecting one, Dag."

Looking over his shoulder, Dean inspects Sam. He looks a little worse. Maybe he's just tired? Either way, Dean was getting worried. Dean takes the water bottle he just drank from and handed it to Sam.

"Drink some of this. You need it," he instructs.

Sam reaches out and takes the bottle. He drinks some and puts it on the floor next to him.

Holding up his handcuffed wrists, Dean gestures toward Dagger. "Hey, think you can help me out here?"

Dagger smirks a little and he reaches into the front pocket of his medical bag. Out comes a key and he unlocks Dean's wrists. Dean twirls his hands around for a second, getting the circulation running through them again. He sighs in relief and silently wishes that he could get something to stop the pain in his mouth. Dean nods his head toward Sam.

"He's not looking too good."

Dagger nods. He raises his hand to feel Sam's temperature but then stops short. Dagger's eyes go over to Dean. "Can I?" he asks, remembering how protective Dean was earlier when he tried to help heal Sam.

Dean nods. "Yeah," he says giving permission.

Quickly, Dagger lays three fingers on Sam's forehead.

"What're you doing?" Dean asks, curiosity in his voice. He'd never seen anything like this. It was weird to him. Everything was weird at this point.

"Calculating his fever," Dagger mumbles.

Dean nods. He watches Sam's facial expression, but it doesn't change. He just looked tired; that's it.

"Well?" Dean asks after a few seconds.

"Well what?"

Rubbing the side of his head, Dean replies, "How high is it?"

A second of silence passed before Dagger removed his hand. "It's about 101.2"

Dean cursed under his breath. How did it raise that much that quick? Dean shook his head. He put his hand on Sam's shoulder and turned his head back to Dagger who was reaching for something in his bag. "What can we do?"

Dagger didn't answer for a second, he was looking for something. He seemed to give up on what he wanted to find pretty quickly because his shoulders slumped forward slightly as he drifted his head back over to Dean and Sam. He pointed to the ice pack that was now on the floor.

"Keep that on him in the time frames that I told you. Have him drink the rest of that water. I'll do my best to get you a new one. And have him sleep," Dagger cranked his neck; his face showing slight sorrow. "I'm sorry but that's all I can do."

Dean looked down at Sam who was now resting his head on Dean shoulder and staring at the floor emptily, not even playing any attention to what Dean and Dagger were talking about.

"He needs medicine," Dean says, a hint of anger in his voice.

Standing, Dagger nods. "I'm aware."

Dean's raises an eyebrow. "Then get it."

"I am unable," Dagger informs softly. "I'm certain Ronald will oppose. I'm sorry."

"You wouldn't have to be sorry if you quit being his bitch, Dagger!"

Not replying, the overly sized man shakes his head and heads for the exit. He opens the heavy door and turns around toward them again.

"Ronald will not allow me to extend my help any further than this until you tell him what you know. I suggest you confess the first chance you get," Dagger says dryly.

Dean smacked the floor. "We don't know what you're talking about!"

Dagger shrugged his shoulders and adjusted his medical bag in his hand.

"Then I guess I can do nothing for you."

The door is slammed shut.

***All Jokes Aside***

"Just close your eyes. It's okay," Dean assures. He looks down at Sam who is lying by his side, staring at the ceiling. Every so often his eyes would drop close but a second later they would flutter open. Sam was struggling to keep awake and it was wearing him out even more. But he was stubborn that way. As long as Dean was awake he was determined to stay awake, too. Dean was sitting with his legs stretched out, Sam's head lying on them. With one hand, Dean held the ice pack on Sam's forehead hoping it was helping with his fever; with the other hand he rubbed his cheek, trying to make the pain subside from the newly implanted stitches.

Sam shook his head. "I can't. If I do I'll see him."

Dean took the ice pack off and a moment later felt Sam's forehead. He still felt the heat breaking through the coolness that lingered on his head. This fever was stubborn, just like Sam. Dean put the ice pack back on.

"Ronald?"

Sam nodded.

Dean shrugged. "Well I'm right here. He's not gonna get you."

Sam was silent. Dean pushed his shoulder with a smile. "I'm serious, man. Just go to sleep, I've got you."

Halfheartedly, Sam smiled a little, but Dean could feel his body relax a little as he closed his eyes. Dean smirked. He'd love to sleep right now, too, but there was no chance of that. Someone had to keep watch.

A couple of minutes passed and Dean removed the ice pack from Sam's head. He let it sit in his lap as he wrapped his hand in his shirt. His hand was freezing- scratch that- everything was freezing. It couldn't be more than forty-something degrees in here and both brothers were shaking slightly. It amazed Dean that even though Sam was shaking for the coolness of the room, that he still managed to have that sheen of sweat on his face.

Fatigue washed over Dean for a moment and he felt his head drop into his collar bone. He opens his eyes slowly to see Sam staring sleepily up at him.

"You can go to sleep, too, you know," Sam whispers, squinting his eyes at the light Ronald and his followers had left on.

Dean shook his head. "Gotta keep watch," he mumbles back. The coolness of the room washes over him and he shivers.

"You're cold?" Sam asks, a hint of surprise in his voice. Dean nods.

"Aren't you?"

Sam shakes his head. "Burning hot, actually."

Dean frowned. He reached over and grabbed the ice pack and places it on Sam's head. "Just go to sleep, okay."

Sam didn't argue he closed his eyes and within seconds he was asleep.

Dean sighed, many ideas of how to get out of here run across his mind, but he couldn't help but wonder why they even captured them in the first place. They kept saying that they wanted their information, but Dean and Sam had no idea what they were talking about. Obviously, they had the wrong brothers, but how would they convince these monsters that they had the wrong people?

Giving up on that thought, Dean fixed his eyes on the door. He was getting more and more tired by the moment.

"You gotta stay awake," Dean says to himself. "You gotta-"

Right in the middle of that sentence Dean fell asleep.

***All Jokes Aside***

"Everybody up!" Ronald yells, banging on the door to where the rest of his followers slept. He walked in boldly from upstairs as he banged on the wall to wake up everyone else.

Harvey woke up first, then Sugar and Dagger, last was Angel who had to be kicked awake by Sugar. Angel growled but then was silenced when Ronald shot him a warning look.

"What're we doing, Ronald?" Harvey asked.

Ronald smiled.

"You, Harvey, are going to go cook something for our friends downstairs. Then, me and Sugar are going to have a nice little talk with them. And if they don't give us what we want... well, lets just say I'll let Angel give them a little lesson."

They all laughed. Ronald clapped his hands once. "Alright, go, Harvey. Sugar come with me. Angel," Ronald shrugged. "Go make yourself useful. And Dagger, get your bag ready. We'll probably need you later."

Again, they laugh. All but Dagger, that is.

Ronald turns to go head where the boys were locked up.

"Today should be fun."

***All Jokes Aside***

Ronald and Sugar storm into the room. At first, Dean and Sam don't even notice their entrance, but when the heavy door comes into contact with the thick walls they both jolt upright.

"Wake up," Sugar says in a disgusted tone.

Dean rolls his eyes. "Good morning to you, too."

Sam nudges him, remembering what happened to Dean yesterday and didn't want it to happen again.

Sugar takes a few quick steps forward, her hair bouncing in the wind.

"You've got a smart mouth, kid."

Dean was silent.

Ronald took a step forward, gently pushing her back.

"Listen," he says. Even though he was trying to be nice, his voice was still the scariest thing Sam had ever heard. "I know we got off to a bad start. But all we want is for you to tell us what you know. See? I'm trying to be nice. I've got Harvey upstairs cooking you something to eat. You must be hungary. I know how much you humans _need_ food." Ronald put air quotes around 'need'. "And once you tell us what you know, we'll be able to make you one of us."

Sam gulped. "What if we don't wanna be one of you?" he asks in a soft voice.

Both Ronald and Sugar laughed a little.

"It's not your choice, Liebling."

Sam was silent, refusing to respond to a name that's not his.

Ronald continued. "You're ours now. You're our property. We will do what we want, when we want, and you have absolutely no say in it."

Dean and Sam exchanged looks.

"Now listen," Ronald continues. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way. I have no problem with either. It's your choice."

The brothers were silent.

Ronald smiles.

"The easy way is just saying what you know. From there, it all smooth sailing. But if you decide to keep your mouths shut like you have been, then there'll be punishment just as it had been." Ronald's eyes shift from one brother to the other. Each of them had this fearlessness in their eyes, and quite frankly it pissed Sugar off. She took a step forward.

"I'm tired of your fucking games! We're in danger here and you're only slowing us down!" she screamed. Ronald put his hand on her shoulder, keeping her at a safe distance.

He shrugged. "Despite her yelling, she is correct."

Dean swallowed. "Who's putting you in danger?"

Sugar tried to leap toward him. "Your people, smart-ass!"

Sam shook his head. "You're wrong."

"Liar!"

Sugar lunges for them again, Ronald holds her back.

"We know about you and we know what you're capable of. We just don't know how and when your people will attack," Ronald explains as calmly as he could but it was pain to see that all of this was getting to him, too.

Dean smirks.

"Our people?"

Ronald rolls his eyes. "Humans."

Sam sits forward. "Just because we're human doesn't mean that we're the ones after you-"

"Silence!"

"No!" Sam yells back.

Shocked, Dean looks down at Sam with wide eyes. He puts his hand on his shoulder, telling him to calm down a little. He didn't want Sugar taking her anger out on him.

Ronald shakes his head.

"Fine," he growls. "The hard way it is."

Dean sits up. "Hey-"

"Angel!" Ronald calls through the open door. Upstairs, footsteps could be heard. Within moments Angel comes down the stairs, his Canine teeth are exposed proudly. Sam gasps as the sight of them. Angel walks into the room and gives Sam and Dean a quick glance before approaching Ronald.

Ronald points over to where Sam and Dean were on the floor.

"Take the little one," he says, his voice dark and evil again.

Instantly, Dean puts an arm in front of Sam. Angel walks over to them with an evil smile etched in his face.

"Back off," Dean warns, his eyes cold.

Ignoring him, Angel reaches down and grabs Sam's shoulder. Sam pulls back, kicking at Angel, but he's bigger and strong than Sam. Dean stands, shoving Angel back. Jogging over, Ronald takes hold of Sam and that's when he goes crazy.

Sam squirms and kicks wildly in the arms of the clown.

"Dean! Dean, please!" Sam yells, still resisting against the clowns hold.

Angel approaches Dean making distance between the two brothers. Dean punches Angel clean in the face, but he retaliates instantly by punching back.

By then, Ronald had taken Sam a few steps away, heading for the door.

"Dean, don't let him take me!" Sam pleads, still pushing back from Ronald. "Dean!"

Jolting forward, Dean tries to tackle Ronald, but the chain on his ankle doesn't allow him. He drops to his knees, cursing as his inability to help Sam.

"Damn it!" Dean yells, smacking the floor. He looks up at Ronald who was walking backwards with Sam in his arms, smiling.

"If you hurt him, I'll kill you!" Dean threatened.

Ronald smiled, not believing Dean's threat.

"I'm serious you bastard! Let him go!"

Ronald turns around and walks through the door.

"Sam!"

"Dean!" Sam's voice was getting smaller and smaller as he was being carried up the stairs.

"I'll kill you all!" Dean screamed at the tops of his lungs, his anger boiling over. He slammed his hand on the ground again and made an audible growl as he tugged at the chain on his leg again. "You hurt my brother and I'll kill you all!"

Sugar and Angel exit the room with faint smiles on their faces. They mumbled to themselves as the took one final look at Dean, yelling at the top of his lungs at them. They walk together through the door and close it.

And Dean's left alone, panic beginning to take over.

The only thing he could hear is the sound of Sam's screams echoing off the walls upstairs.

* * *

_What'd you think they're going to do to Sam?_

_***Announcer's Voice* On Next Week's Episode:** Sam spills his guts...literally?_

_Also, check my collection of requested one-shots for Supernatural titled 'Agony', you may like it. And send in your requests, I'll try to write one for you (:_

_Don't be shy; I'd love to hear what you think. Review! (:_


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's Note: _Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long. Thanks for the reviews. Please, keep them coming. You guys are awesome.

_**Last Time...**_

After not seeing eye to eye on how to get the information they want from Sam and Dean, the demons take Sam.

_You may now return to your regularly scheduled program (:_

_

* * *

_**-Chapter Nine:**

Sam squirmed in the arms of Ronald as he was carried up the stairs. They went down a dark hallway with only one light in it. Ronald had Sam over his shoulder, with his buff arm wrapped around his torso. Ronald walks slowly, like he wanted Sam to remember the walk. Sam kept his head up as he watched Angel and Sugar following a couple of feet behind them. They talked to each other like nothing was happening, like they didn't have two prisoners captive right now.

Ronald came to a stop in front of a large door. Slowly, he opened it and immediately the smell of blood rushed out of the room and smacked Sam in the face. As he was being carried into it he coughed and Ronald shushed him. The room was huge. It was lit slightly; just enough to see what's around you, but not very clearly. On the floor was what Sam could've sworn was dry blood and he suddenly felt nauseous .

They walked into the room and Ronald dropped Sam onto the floor hard. The back of his head bounced off the floor. He grabbed it on pain, but he didn't have a chance to collect himself before Ronald took hold of his wrists and yanked him to his feet.

"Let me go!" Sam yelled, his vision still a little woozy .

Ronald's heavy hand swiped across Sam's face silencing him.

"I like you Liebling, I really do; but you're just a little too rebellious for me," Ronald says as he yanks Sam backward and into the center of the room. With one hand a still smashing Sam's wrists together, Ronald reached overhead for a rope. He pulls it down some and ties Sam's wrists in it. Even though Sam pulls as much as he could, Ronald still manages to get them strapped securely into the holes. Ronald pulls on the end of the rope to tighten it and it also lifts Sam almost off his feet. Only the tips of his toes swipe the floor. Instantly, his shoulders hurt and so do his wrists.

"Put me down!" Sam yells, pulling his arms.

Again, Ronald smacks him. "When will you learn to quit talking out unless I tell you to?"

This time Sam stays quiet but he still struggles to break free from the ropes that had him almost hanging from the ceiling.

Ronald walks over to Sugar and Angel. They talk quietly for a second. Sam tries to listen in, but they're speaking too softly. After a moment or two, Ronald and Sugar exits the room, leaving Sam alone with Angel. He gulps.

"I've just been told that you're getting your first lesson today," Angel states walking over to the furthest side of the room. For the first time Sam notices a small closet as Angel opens the door and reaches for something inside. Sam holds his breath as he waits impatiently to find out what Angel is getting. Just as Angel turns around, Sam hears the sound of the door locking, ensuring Sam had no escape route. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but nearly choked on it when he noticed Angel twirling a whip in his hand. Not the little play-toy whips. A real one. Full black leather that shined in the dim light. Sam felt his heart speed up.

Angel approaches him. "Before we get what we want, you must establish and learn a few things." Angel smiles slightly before slapping the whip on the floor. Sam did his best not to flinch. He wasn't hit yet, so there's no need to be stared of it.

"First: you're name."

Circling him, Angel hits the whip on the floor in a taunting manor. Still, Sam stares straight ahead, blocking out the sound.

"What's your name?"

Sam was silent.

_Kwa-tish!_

The whip slammed on the floor. Sam jumped.

"I said what's your name? Speak!"

Sam struggled to find his voice.

"S-sam," he says softly.

"Wrong!"

_Kwa-tish!_

This time the whip came in contact with Sam's back. He jerked forward at the sudden pain but didn't cry out. He bit his lip to make himself keep quiet.

Angel walked to the front of Sam, twirling the whip again.

"I said what's your name?"

Sam sucked in a shaky breath of air. "Sam."

_Kwa-tish!_

"Ahh!" Sam cries out, tears swelling in his eyes. Honestly, Sam knew just what he wanted to hear. He knew that Angel wanted him to admit to his new name. He knew that Angel wanted him to say his name is Leibling, but he wasn't going to do it. He wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of feeling like they owned him.

_Kwa-tish!_

"What's your name? Your _new_ name?" Angel specified, hoping that Sam would get the message.

Sam shook his head, letting him know that he would not giving in. "My name is Sam."

_Kwa-tish!_

_Kwa-tish!_

_Kwa-tish!_

Sam's screams got louder and louder with each hit. There were clean rips in his shirt from the whip and his stomach was bloody. It stung like hell and he was beginning to get dizzy. He sucked in a huge breath of air, hoping that it would take some of the lightheadedness away but it didn't.

"What do you know?"Angel asked.

By now the pain was so overwhelming that Sam was tearing up. They ran freely down his face and dropped onto the floor along with his blood.

"You have the wrong people," Sam whined.

_Kwa-tish!_

Sam's body swung back and forth from the impact of the hit, but Sam stuck to his guns. He knew Dean would want him to. There was a burning sensation all throughout Sam's body and he wondered if it was from the pain or the blood loss.

"You know, I can stop as soon as you say your name and tell me what you know," Angel tried to persuade as he circled Sam again, increasing his anxiety and giving the pain a chance to really set in before he went for another round.

Sam licked his dry lips and tried to get his breathing under control.

"My name is Sam and we don't know what you're talking about!" he yells as loud as he could.

_Kwa-tish!_

Sam cried out loud but the beating continues. Several more whips to his back, sides, and stomach leave him in whimpers and breathing so quick he had to tell himself to slow down or he'd hyperventilate. Sam could feel the blood sliding down his stomach and dropping on the floor leaving a puddle in front of him Sam was at a loss. He couldn't keep this up anymore...

"P-please," Sam pleads, his head resting on his collar bone. "I'll say what you want...but I don't know anything, I swear."

_Kwa-tish!_

Obviously, Angel wasn't happy with that bargain, but he was willing to test it out.

"What. Is. Your. Name?" Angel asks, breaking the words into their own sentences.

_My name is Sam_, Sam says to himself in his mind.

"Liebling," Sam says barely above a whisper. He hated giving in but he couldn't take anymore. Honestly he couldn't.

_I'm sorry, Dean. I couldn't take anymore...I had to..._

Angel chuckled. "That's a start..."

_Kwa-tish!_

_Kwa-tish!_

Sam had no idea what he was getting hit for now, but he guessed that Angel didn't really need a reason. He just did it to do it. He did it because he could and Sam couldn't stop him.

Angle circled Sam again; flicking the whip lightly and watching Sam flinch each time.

"What is your name?"

_Kwa-tish!_

Sam fought back tears. He felt like he couldn't speak anymore.

"L-liebling..."

Sarcastically, Angel clapped his hands. He patted the side of Sam's face gently. "Good boy."

Sam would've moved away if he had any energy left.

Angel took a step back cracking the whip against the floor again.

"Now," he says. "tell me what your kind has planned for our kind."

Sam slumped forward. At this point he _wished_ he had something to tell them but he didn't; and if he did, he didn't know it.

Weakly, Sam shook his head. "Please listen to me," he says in a soft, slow voice. His eyes were barely open as he did his best to tell Angel that he was clueless. "Me and my family don't want to hurt you...I swear."

_Kwa-tish!_

"Liar!" Angel yelled.

Sam was defeated; there was nothing else he could do. Angel wouldn't believe him.

"What are they planning?"

Sam's breathing was uneven and his eyesight was beginning to fade.

"I don't know..."

_Kwa-tish!_

"What are they planning?"

"I d-don't know," Sam answers through clenched teeth.

_Kwa-tish!_

This went on for several minutes before Angel had finally wore Sam out and his body went lax. His head drooped forward and his feet drifted ghostly over the floor. His hands were no longer in fists and his breathing had slowed some. His face had lost some color, but that was understandable because he had lost some blood.

Angel sighed and let the whip fall out of his hand. He reached up and untied Sam's hand and caught him before he fell to the floor. Angel lifted Sam into his arms and carried him bridal style to the door. He unlocked the door and walked up the stairs into where the rest of his blood sucking-demon-Canine-human friends were sitting.

"He tell you?" Sugar asked halfheartedly. She was actually paying more attention to her finger nail.

Angel shrugged and shook his head at the same time. "Kid's lips are sealed. Sure knows how to take a beating, though."

Harvey stands and approaches Angel. He whistles in astonishment.

"Don't you think you went a little over-board on the kid, Angel? I mean, look at him."

They both look down at Sam in his arms. His shirt was literally hanging on by its threads. The gashes on his stomach from the whip are still dripping on the floor. A lot of the cuts didn't break open and start to bleed, but the ones that did ran like a fountain. Sam's head was hanging backwards, his mouth open slightly, blood splatters on the side of his face. His expression showed distress, but that was understandable. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know what Sam was in a hell of a lot of pain.

Angel shook his head.

"Kid should of spilled his guts," he says, trying to keep himself from feeling regretful.

Harvey smirked. "I think you left his guts in the room. You might've beaten them out of him."

Disregarding Harvey's statement, Angel takes Sam down another hallway and into a room where there are beds in it. Momentarily, he lays Sam down in one, but just long enough to take his tattered shirt off and wrap him in the blanket from the bed.

He takes Sam down more stairs and back into the room where Dean was sitting impatiently, seconds from going out of his mind.

Angel walks into the room with Sam cover in a blood-red stained sheet. Sam's not moving in his arms and he's not making a sound. Angel has a blank expression on his face as he enters the room. Dean could feel his heart skip several beats. Dean sat in the room covering his ears as much as he could. For a while, Dean had heard Sam screaming, but then there was a sound ; like the sound of a heavy door slamming shut, and then there was just silence. Dean hated that, too. The quiet has the ability to scream the truth, even when Dean didn't want to hear it. And the truth was : Sam was suffering and Dean could do absolutely nothing bout it.

He picked it head up and felt his breath catch in his throat.

"Sam!"

Angel doesn't say anything at first. He simply puts Sam on the ground near Dean.

Dean was doing all he could to keep from kicking Angel's ass. He knew that if he acted out that they'd take him, or even worse: take Sam again.

"What the hell did you do to him?" Dean asks, dropping to his knees by Sam.

Angel walked a few steps then turned around.

"He wouldn't tell me what I wanted to hear," Angel announces nonchalantly.

Dean felt his jaw drop.

"He didn't say anything because we don't know anything! You have the wrong people!"

Angel shook his head. "You're lying."

Dean sighed. "How?"

By now, Angel was at the door. He looked back at Sam on the floor and Dean hovering over him. "You're the sons of John Winchester, aren't you?"

Dean froze. How did he know that?

Angel pointed his finger. "That look on your face tells me I'm correct. Would I know that if we had the wrong people?"

Dean doesn't answer. He doesn't know that to say.

Angel shrugs. "That's what I thought..."

Shaking his head, Angel slams the door shut, leaving Dean in panic and confusion.

* * *

_Yeah, I don't like Angel either. You know, I even felt sad for Sam while I was writing this... And what about what Angel said? Do you think that Dean and Sam are a part of whatever the Adlets believe they are?_

_***Announcer's Voice* On Next Week's Episode:** Dean plays Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman as he sits in his own bowl of worry, fury, and perplexity. _

_So what'cha think?_

_Don't be shy; review! (:_


	10. Chapter 10

_Author's Note: _Woo-hoo! We reached Chapter Ten! Thanks a lot for all the reviews. You guys are the best readers in FanFiction history :D

_**Last Time...**_

After an all-too-harsh and undeserved punishment, Angel brings Sam back to Dean, bloody and unconscious.

_You may now return to your regularly scheduled program (:_

_

* * *

_**-Chapter Ten:**

It was the deep red blood seeping through the crisp white sheet Sam was wrapped in that snapped Dean out of his momentary shock. He shook his head, trying to clear in and dropped to his knees next to Sam. He tapped the side of his face, trying to wake him. Sam just laid there, still and unresponsive. With his hand shaking, Dean pressed his pointer and his middle finger to Sam's neck. Almost immediately he felt Sam's pulse pushing back and he let out a relieved sigh. But the next thing Dean noticed was the amount of heat generating from Sam's body. His fever was higher, that was obvious; but how high? Pushing that thought to the side for a moment, Dean grabbed the top of the sheet and mentally prepared himself. He wasn't sure what was bleeding so much from Sam, but he had to know. After two deep breaths, Dean tugged the sheet back and instantly felt his mouth drop. All over Sam's midsection were long, soon-to-be-swollen cuts.

"Oh God," Dean whispered, opening the other side of the sheet.

Sam hadn't moved a muscle yet. He laid the same way: flat on his back, his head dropped to the left, facing the wall. His hair was beginning to become damp from the sweat on his forehead. Small drops of blood were on the side of his face. His mouth was open slightly as his chest rose and dropped in an uneven, labored pattern. He still had his color for the most part, though. Which is the only good sign Dean seen.

Controlling the anger he felt for the Adlets, Dean thought quickly. But what could he do? Sam needed a doctor; someone who knew that they were doing and what it would take for him to get better. Dean wasn't a doctor. But he did have common sense, so he used that.

Dean searched for anything in his reach. Turning around, he spotted the half drunken bottle of water that he was trying to save for later. Leaning backwards, he grabbed the water and placed in front of him. He looked at Sam carefully, planning his next move. After a moment of thought, Dean leaned over Sam and grabbed under his arms, lifting him. Sam didn't even make a sound was he was brought into Dean's hold. With Sam secure in his arms, Dean tugged the sheet from under him.

Once the sheet was out of the way, Dean let Sam back down on the floor. Dean tossed the sheet to the side and grabbed the bottle of water. He twisted off the cap and drizzled the water onto Sam's stomach. Instantly, Sam's body jerked upward and he let out a barely audible moan. His breathing quickened a tad, but it slowed just a second later.

"I'm sorry, Sam; but I gotta clean these and this is the only way I can," Dean apologized, continuing to pour the water. From that point, Sam was still again, not even reacting to the water stinging his stomach. Once the bottle was empty, Dean grabbed the blanket again and folded it a few times. Once it was thick enough, Dean placed it to Sam's stomach and pressed, hoping to stop the bleeding.

Sam's face scrunched in pain, but he didn't wake or make a sound. Regretfully, Dean looked at Sam and shook his head.

"I'm sorry," Dean says again, but keeps even pressure on the wounds.

After a minute or so, Dean lightened up on the pressure and removed the sheet. He looked down at the cuts. They were red and just from the looks of them: they hurt like hell. Some of them were closed, more bruise-like than anything. Those didn't look too bad. But the ones that were open would send a shiver down your spine. Letting out a deep breath, Dean took off his jacket and wrapped it around Sam's shoulders.

Dean took hold of Sam once more and brought them both near the wall, where they were before. Dean sat with his back against the wall and Sam's head in his lap. Growing impatient, Dean tapped the side of his face again.

"Sam, wake up," he called.

Nothing, not at first. But after a moment or two, Dean could see Sam's eyes moving under his closed eyelids. Anxiously, Dean tapped his hand against Sam's cheek again.

"C'mon, Sammy. Open your eyes, bro."

Sam made a choking sound and pushed his head onto Dean's thigh. Again, Dean tapped the side of his face; this time a little harder.

"Sam," he cooed.

Tilting his head, Sam's eyes fluttered open a little. He squinted at the light and groaned at the sudden pain he felt. Dean put his hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him. Unfocused but open, Sam's eyes looked up at him with more confusion that anything.

"Hey kid," Dean says with a relieved smile. "You scared me."

Sam's eyes roamed around the room aimlessly. Frowning, Dean snapped his fingers. Lazily, Sam looked over in his direction.

"Sam, can you hear me?" Dean asked, his voice full of question.

Almost unnoticeably, Sam nodded. "Yea'"

Dean shook his head and sighed.

"Wha' hap'ened?" Sam asked, closing and opening his eyes slowly, trying to get the black dots from swarming around.

"I was gonna ask you the same thing."

Sam took in a deep breath but instantly regretted when he felt the gashes on his stomach expand and send a wave of pain up and down his body. Realizing his brother's pain, Dean rubs his arm and shushes him.

"Just breathe, Sam," Dean coaches. "The pain will go away. Just calm down."

And just as Dean promised, within seconds, they pain subsided but didn't disappear. But at least it was bearable

Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Better?"

Sam nodded softly.

Getting serious, Dean cleared his throat. "Angel did this?"

For a second, Sam thought. Everything was coming back to him now. "Yeah... he had a whip."

Dean nodded. "What'd you tell him?"

"Nothing..."

Dean blinked. "Then what he hit you for?"

Sam's eyes were getting heavy. He tried to fight away the sleepiness. "He thought I was lying," Sam answers in a soft voice.

Dean cursed just as a frightening thought crossed his mind. When Sam was first taken away, Dean had heard everything, like there was huge stereos in the room. He heard Sam yelling, telling them that he didn't know anything. And just when Dean thought he'd have to cut off his ears so he wouldn't have to hear anything anymore, it stopped. Then the whole room was quiet. Letting his eyes fall back on his brother, Dean noticed the spaced-out look in his eyes. He shook Sam's shoulder.

"Sam," he says with caution. "focus, okay? Did they bite you?"

Sam was quiet.

Dean shook his shoulder. "Sam, please. This is important. Did they bite you?" Dean repeated.

Slowly, Sam shook his head. "No..."

Dean let out a sigh of relief. They would be the last thing they needed.

Sam squeezed his eyes shut and forced them to open. Dean noticed the increased speed of his breathing and got alarmed.

"Sam?"

Sam turned his head on Dean's leg. He let out a breath and shivered.

"I feel f'nny," he mumbled, letting his eyes fall closed.

Dean shook him. "Hey, whoa, Sam," Dean calls. "You can't go to sleep now, okay?"

Reluctantly, Sam pulled his eyes back open.

Keeping the conversation going, Dean moved on to the next subject. He tapped Sam's shoulder. "Hey, you hear what Angel said?"

Looking up at Dean sleepily, Sam shook his head.

"They know Dad's name, man."

Sam looked away for a second. "So wh't? They knew our name, too-"

Dean shook his head. "Yeah but he said that 'cause we're Dad's kids, that we're a part of something?"

"Someth'n good or someth'n bad..."

Dean shrugs. "Bad, apparently."

They were both silent for a second.

"Dad wouldn't hurt us..." Sam reasons.

Rolling his eyes, Dean says, "Yeah, but they will," Dean answered with a rolling of his eyes. "Besides, Dad's not exactly an open book, Sam. He maybe hunting these things or know something about them that we don't. What if they're targeting us for something he did?"

Sam was quiet.

Dean looked down to see that his eyes had closed again. Dean shook his shoulder.

"Sam."

Nothing. His eyes remained closed, his breathing still uneven.

Again, Dean shook him.

"Sam, wake up."

Dean waited impatiently for a few seconds and Sam didn't show any signs of waking up soon.

Feeling defeated, Dean gently slammed the back of his head against the brick wall and sighed.

"Damn it, Sam."

* * *

_Shorter than usual; I know. Sorry. But tell me what'cha think, anyway?_

_***Announcer's Voice* On Next Week's Episode: **__The Adlets plan a new way to get Sam and Dean to talk._

_Don't be shy; I don't bite! _

_Reviews make me smile ; don't you want me to be happy?_

_Review, please._


	11. Chapter 11

_Author's Note: _As always, thanks so much for the reviews. Keep em' coming!

_**Last Time...**_

We found Dean doing all he could to take care of his brother; and the boys suspect John knows something they don't.

_You may now return to your regularly scheduled program (:_

_

* * *

_**-Chapter Eleven:**

"This isn't working," Sugar says, lying back in her bed. Her hand props her head up so she can see the rest of her people as they game plan. On the bed across from her was Dagger, but he had successfully tuned everyone out, not wanting to have any part in what they were planning. Angel had plastered himself in the doorway. It made him feel in charge of everything, they was he was in the front of the room, overseeing everything. Ronald was leaned against the wall, thinking aloud. Harvey was upstairs, finishing the food for Dean and Sam.

Angel made a snorting sound and shot her a look. "Of course it's not working, Sugar. We still don't know anything!"

Sugar sat up, her blond hair bouncing up and falling on her shoulders. "Well you don't know _anything_ either way. It doesn't matter what anything says to you!" she argues back.

For a second, Angel was surprised. No one, absolutely no one, talked to Angel like that. Ronald not included. Honestly, he wasn't exactly sure how he should react to that. But he did the only thing he could to ensure not only to himself, but to the rest of the group, that he's the one who demanded respect around here. Moving phantom-like across the room Angel stood in front of Sugar and stared. She rolled her eyes, uncertain of what he was planning, but forced herself to keep cool. Unexpected to all, Angel slapped Sugar, and he slapped her hard. Almost instantly the side of her face had a red handprint on it. She fell back onto the bed, holding her face. Angel's eyes shined with satisfactions as Sugar's lime green eyes dulled to forest green.

Stepping him, Ronald forcefully grabbed Angel's arm and pushed him back.

"What's wrong with you?" he barked.

Angel's moment of glory had faded and in his mind he was back at the bottom again. No one topped the authority of Ronald. Not even Angel.

Ronald shook his arm, determined to get an answer. "I said what's your problem? Why'd you hit her?"

Everyone else was silent. Even Dagger had gone came out of his mental shell to see what was happening.

Again, Ronald shook Angel's arm. He gritted his teeth at the pain. "Answer!"

Refusing, Angel looks down at the floor. Getting angrier, Ronald twisted Angel's arm until it couldn't go anymore and then let it go when more frustration washed over him.

"Do you see what they're doing to us?" Sugar mumbles as she finally finds the strength to sit up. She slowly puts her hand down and the redness is already beginning to fade. Although she avoids eye contact with Angel, she looks at everyone else. "They're tearing us apart."

Ronald shook his head. "She's correct."

Everyone listens up because Ronald is talking.

"These...kids are at the root of all our problems," he begins, an evil grin swiping across his face. "They hiding something whether they know it or not, and I intend to find out."

Sugar nods. "I agree."

Moving forward a few steps, Ronald cricks his neck. "How did we let this happen? We've gotten so nervous that we're turning to fighting one another? Is that what we've honestly come to?" Ronald gives Angel and Sugar a look of disappointment. Angel drops his head for a moment.

"Now we need to break them. We need them to talk. We need their information. We_ need_ to stick together," Ronald says slowly. He eyes everyone in the room.

Sugar shakes her head.

"But how?" Angel asks, finally finding the impulse to speak again.

"A little torture never hurt," Sugar says with a shrug, she only answered Angel because she knew that was the only way she could show she forgave Angel.

He walked over to the bed and took a seat next to her. They exchanged glances briefly before he wagged his finger.

"We've done it to both of them. We didn't really have high expectations for the big one," Angel looked up at Ronald. "We expected the little one to talk immediately but his lips are sealed."

"He's stronger than he looks," Dagger mumbled. Everyone's head swooped over to him, sort of in awe.

Ronald shook his head. "Dagger, are you getting attached to the humans again?"

Dagger stays quiet, he had tuned them out once again.

Everyone seemed to shrug off his comment and continue to think of something.

Just then, Ronald snapped his fingers. "I got it," he says.

Patiently, Angel and Sugar look up at him.

"They're just like us," Ronald says. "They're stronger as a team."

Sugar smiled. "Righhhttt."

Clueless, Angel looks back and forth at them. "What?" he asks.

"We separate them, Angel," Sugar answers in the nicest way possible without ripping his head off.

He stands, a revengeful and evil smile written on his face. He claps his hands together. "Righhhtt."

***All Jokes Aside***

Dagger followed Ronald upstairs to where Harvey was cooking. The smell of it was almost like manure to them.

"Ronald, I need to talk to you," Dagger says.

Turning around quickly, Ronald looks at him suspiciously.

"Dagger?"

He nodded.

"What about?"

Dagger cleared his throat.

"Well it's about the boy."

Ronald rolled his eyes, his broken make up spreading as he forced a fake smile to cover up his twinge of anger.

"Which one, Dagger?" he asked, annoyance in his voice.

Dagger cleared his throat. "The one you call Liebling."

Ronald smiled. "Oh."

"Yes," Dagger says. "Well you see, my concern is his medical condition."

Eyeing him suspiciously, Ronald waits for him to continue.

"Well Angel has-"

"I'm aware of what Angel as done, I ordered it."

Dagger nodded. "I need to see to him, Roger. From what I seen earlier he's not in good shape and it must be worse by now. Especially with no food, no water, no proper cleaning of the wounds, no-"

"Silence, Dagger!" Ronald orders.

Dagger is quiet.

Ronald points his finger.

"Go get two bottles of water and see to our humans. But don't become attached Dagger," Ronald warns. " I know how you get."

With a slight smile, Dagger went to fetch the water, without as much as a 'thank you'.

***All Jokes Aside***

Silence is Dean's worst enemy. The quiet gives his mind a chance to wander. And that was something he hated to do. As he sat there with his back against the wall, he rocked his head back and forth. Sam's head laid on his leg and Dean's hand laid across Sam's chest. He had tried to waken his several times, but it failed miserably. Nothing worked; and that's what scared Dean more than the silence itself. Dean's eyes roamed the room, trying not to think about Sam, his dad, whatever these things were thats keeping them here, or the fact that his bladder was about to burst.

There was a sudden loud bang on the door and Dean jumped a little, but Sam didn't move a muscle. In came Dagger with his medical bag in his hand. Dean sighed. Dagger was the only one he didn't hate that much.

"What's a guy gotta do to get to a bathroom around here?"

Dagger looked at him for a moment with a look that was near a smile, but he soon turned his attention to Sam. He crouches down next to him. Dagger looks up at Dean.

"How long has he been unconscious?"

Dean though for a second. Without a clock, keeping track of time was hard.

"Uh, about twenty minutes," Dean guessed.

His answer must've been enough for Dagger because he nodded, keeping his stare on Sam. He reached his hand out, but stopped.

"May I?" Dagger asked.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, do whatever you have to. Just try not to hurt him, okay?"

Dagger smirked. "Sure," he says almost under his breath.

With both hands, Dagger traces the back of Sam's head and down to his neck. Then he comes over his shoulders and stops.

"What'd you put on him?" Dagger asks, his face scrunched in confusion when noticing the wetness on Sam's stomach.

Dean looked away. "Water," he answers. "Is that bad?"

Dagger shook his head. "No, that's good," he says, ensuring Dean that he hadn't messed up. "That was very smart of you."

Feeling proud, Dean gave Dagger a warm smile before turning his attention back to Sam.

"What about his fever?" Dean asked.

Putting his two fingers to Sam's sweat glazed forehead, Dagger waited for a moment. Seconds later he brought his fingers away with a disappointed sigh.

"What?" Dean asks.

"It's higher."

"Well how high?"

Dagger reached for something in his bag. "103, pushing 104, maybe."

In his mind, Dean cursed.

"What do we do?"

Dagger grabbed another of those ice packs and crushed it and shook it. He handed it to Dean. "Put that on him."

Dean did as he was told as he watched Dagger grab long white bandages out of his bang and set them on the floor. Next he took out a gray bottle with a black cap on it. Dean wondered what that was for. But he didn't question, though. As far as he was concerned, Dagger was the only nice one, so he wasn't going to give him the 3rd degree about every little thing he does. Next, Dagger grabbed what looked like cushioned squares. From Dean's angel he seen many of them, but Dagger only brought out about five. He unscrewed the cap and put the padded squared over the top. He flipped the bottle upside down with the pad covering the opening, wetting the square with whatever was inside of the bottle.

"This," Dagger says, shaking the bottle," is alcohol; I'm going to use it to clean his wounds, okay?"

Dean nods. "Yeah, okay."

Cautiously, Dagger pushes Dean's jacket off of Sam's torso. Dean could see Dagger wince at what he saw, but he kept his composure.

As softly, as he could Dagger presses the alcohol soaked pad to Sam's stomach.

Sam's body flinched and Dean felt his head press harder into his thigh. Dagger didn't stop though, he kelp cleaning the wounds as if he didn't hear Sam at all.

"Ah," Sam whined, tilting his head. His eyes remained closed but they were squeezed together.

Dagger looked up momentarily to Dean.

"Calm him," he says, almost in a demanding voice.

Dagger returns to his cleaning.

Dean rubs Sam's shoulder. He shushes him the the most calming voice he could find.

"Shhh, Sammy," Dean coos. "I know it hurts, but it's gonna help you. Just calm down."

Sam stirs a little more and some of his movement stops, but the presser he's putting on Dean's leg increases.

"Thank you," Dagger mumbles when Sam begins to settle.

Sam's body is tense and Dean can feel it. He tries to sooth him and get him to relax as much as he could, but nothing was really working. Keeping the ice pack on him, Dean talks softly.

"You're gonna be okay," he says. "Everything gonna be okay. Just calm down a little, Sam."

This goes on for about ten more minutes and then Dagger declares that he's finished with the cleaning. Minutes after Dagger has stopped pressing the alcohol soaked pad to his stomach, Sam's breathing as slowed a little and Dean can feel him beginning to relax.

"What now?" Dean asks. He takes the ice pack off Sam's head and puts it on the floor.

Dagger clears his throat as he takes hold of the long white strips of cloth he brought out earlier.

"These have been sterilized and are ready to use."

Dean nodded, not exactly sure what he was getting at.

Dagger stretched the cloth in his hands.

"You think you can sit him up?"

Again Dean nodded.

He put his hands just under Sam's arms and pushed him into the sitting position. Sam made a moaning sounds as more pain ran thorough him.

"I'm sorry," Dean apologized,

Dagger took one end of the cloth and wrapped it around Sam's lower abs. Once it's secure, he takes another cloth and wraps the middle part.

"Lift his arms," Dagger says to Dean.

Then Dagger takes the final cloth and wraps the top part of Sam's stomach.

"That should do it," Dagger says. "I'll be back to change that tomorrow. Try to get him to drink some water, he could really use it."

Dean nodded, but then Dagger's words sank in. Tomorrow?

"How long are you planning to keep us here?"

Dagger shrugs. "It's not up to me. I'm sorry."

Dean opened his mouth to talk, but Dagger shook his head and put his hand up.

"I'm sorry," he says again.

After he packs up his things he takes the two water bottles from the side of his bag and hands them to Dean.

"This was all Ronald would let me get. Use it wisely."

Reluctantly, Dean takes the water. He notices the liquid moving around and it bring him back to his previous concern from earlier.

"What about the bathroom, Dag?"

Dagger shrugs. "I can mention it to Ronald, but I'm not sure."

Dean was silent. If he wasn't chained and if Sam wasn't hurt he'd raise all types of hell, but he couldn't. He was stuck.

With that, Dagger stands and heads to the door. Just as he always does, he turns around and gives Dean a remorseful look just before he walks through the door slowly.

Dean had gotten used to that pattern, and that scared him more than he could ever tell.

***All Jokes Aside***

What's worse than falling asleep without realizing it in a place you know you should be on guard 24/7?

The answer to that question is waking up to yelling, loud noises, quick movements, and bright lights with a full bladder.

Just as Dean's eyes snapped open, Sam was just being yanked from under his arm.

Dean sprang forward toward Ronald, but his chain resisted at his attempt to move anymore.

"Put him down!" Dean yelled.

Ronald took a step back wind Sam in his arms with a crooked smile. He didn't bother to answer; he knew that Dean was incapable of doing anything once he was in a safe distance from him. Dean hadn't noticed that Angel and Sugar were behind him until he felt a hard smack to the back of his head. He fell forward, but pushed himself to his feet almost immediately. He punched Angel back and it set him back a few steps. Sugar charged him, taking him to the ground. This was the only time in Dean's life when he didn't mind hitting a girl. He bucked, throwing her of him, and slammed her back on the floor. She cried out, but Dean didn't care. After all, she started it.

Angel pulled Dean to his feet and spun him around, keeping his hands behind his back. Cool metal were slipped over his wrists, keeping him from fighting back. He soon realized that they were handcuffs.

"You're that much of a bitch, Angel? You can't fight me like a real man- or whatever you are?"

Angel doesn't answer. He doesn't need to. He knows that he had the upper hand.

Sugar drops to the floor to unchain Dean's ankle.

Once he's loose, Dean kicks Sugar hard in the face, sending her backwards. He couldn't help but crack a slight smile. She had to see that coming, right?

"Alright, that's enough," Angel says. He digs into his pocket. Before Dean even had a chance to react he felt a prick in his arm. Almost immediately he felt his body beginning to relax.

What the hell did he just do?

Ronald gestures toward the door with his head.

"Come on, everyone."

He walks out first with Sam in his grasp. Angel and Sugar haul Dean out together.

His vision is beginning to get blurry, but he can still see. Dean was being taken out the room. Ronald walked with Sam to the right; Dean expected to go that way, too. But then he felt himself being turned left, he started to panic on the inside.

A moment later, the black dots that were just at the edges of his eyesight had filled his vision.

_Are they separating us or are we getting a punishment?_ Dean thought to himself.

_It doesn't really matter, either way, this doesn't end well..._

* * *

_So, what'cha think? And what about Dagger? Do you believe he's really the good one or is it just an act?_

_***Announcer's Voice* On Next Week's Episode: **__Dean and Sam feel a little separation anxiety._

_OMG! Did you guys go vote for Jensen to win for Best Lead Actor at the Emmy's?_

_Go do it!_

_Anyway, Don't be shy; please review! (:_


	12. Chapter 12

_Author's Note: _I would tell you that you guys are awesome; but you know that already. I would tell you that I love you all; but you know what, too. I would tell you how thankful I am that you keep reading and reviewing; but I think you knew that, too. So...I guess there's nothing left to say, huh? :P

_**Last Time...**_

Ronald N' Crew take Dean one way, and Sam the other.

**Everyone give 'Medicgirl' a round of applause for being our 100th reviewer! :D**

**Thanks so much for all the reviews guys. **

**Soo...200? **

**I guess 150 more realistic, huh? Either way, you guys are awesome. Don't EVERY forget that!**

_You may now return to your regularly scheduled program (:_

_

* * *

_**-Chapter Twelve:**

Ronald was careful with Sam; more careful than any of them have ever seen him with anyone. Harvey followed Ronald down a hallway. In his hand he carried a bottle of water and a plate of food. The hall was narrow, closed in. Above, there were low-lit lights just barely making the hallway visible. Every once in a while, Ronald would look down as Sam, making sure he hadn't woken up.

After walking past several doors, Ronald pushed open a thin door open and entered it. This room was lighted much better. One half of the room had nothing in it, just a chair. But the other half had a not-too-wide but not-too-long cage. Ronald smile down at Sam.

"This is just in case," Ronald says softly as he opens the gate. He sets Sam down on the floor and takes a chain from the floor and wraps it around Sam's wrist and locks it. He pats Sam's head and stands.

"Wouldn't want you getting away, now would we?"

In that moment, Sam's eyes flutter open. His eyes wander cluelessly but then they fall on Ronald's creepy figure he gasps slightly and he jumps a little. Ronald puts both his hands up but takes a step closer to Sam.

"Nice of you to join us," the clown whispers in that chilling tone he has. Sam gulped. His chest was heavy, his stomach burned, his legs might as well have been nonexistent because he couldn't feel them, his arms hurt, and his head was spinning. When you mix up all those sensations together you get one delirious Sam Winchester. He rocked his head back and forth, trying his hardest to remember what happened, but he could only recall bits and pieces. The one thing that stuck out in his mind was that Dean was nowhere in sight. Sam was scared, but he wouldn't and couldn't let them know it. If Sam's dad ever taught him anything, it was to never show your fear. And from what he could remember: dogs smelled fear; which was perfect in this situation.

Letting his eyes drop, Sam spotted Harvey. He hadn't seen him before but figured he must've been a part of the Dog Pound. Again, Sam looked over at Ronald. His throat scratched as he tried to find his voice.

"'M brother," Sam chokes out. "Where's he?"

Ronald's flinch of his eyebrows was his only answer.

Sam's head dropped onto his arm. He was tired, but he was getting his strength back. Once he learned to ignore the burning on his stomach he felt a little better. He shook his head and tried again.

"Where is he?" Sam asks again, a little more authority in his voice. That caught Ronald's attention. His chipped makeup stretched with his smile.

He leans forward and pinches Sam's cheek like he's a baby.

"Awe; widdle boy want his big brover?" Ronald teases.

With the hand that wasn't chained, Sam swatted the clown's filthy paw away.

A warning look was all Sam gave.

There was tension between Ronald and Sam, even though Sam was scared to death of him, he didn't let it show. He had been through too much, seen too much,and heard too much, to give into his fears now.

Ronald looked away. He took a deep breath as if trying to keep himself calm- like he didn't want to hurt Sam. He pointed at Harvey who still stood at the doorframe quite patiently, waiting to be told what to do next.

"Make sure he drinks something, try to get him to eat. Once you're done, fetch Dagger. His fever is still high."

Harvey did a movement that looked like he was bowing and made his way over to Sam with a half-hearted smile.

Just before Ronald leaves, he turns around and gives Sam a look that he's not sure what it means and says, "I've got my eye on you."

***All Jokes Aside***

Dean woke up to the bickering of Angel and Sugar.

"Why does anyone even listen to you?" she scolded, rolling her eyes.

Angel raised his hand. "I'll give you a reason..."

Sugar flinched backwards. Even though Dean found himself smiling, wondering if he'd actually do something, deep down Dean knew it was wrong. If there was something he remembered his father saying, it was that no man should ever hit a girl. Somehow Dean knew he was gonna regret doing this, but he cleared his throat to get their attention.

"Hey freaks!" he called.

Both of their heads swooped over to him. Slowly, Angel's hand fell to his side and Sugar stood up straight.

Angel power-walked over to Dean, smacking him clear across the face.

Dean tried to counteract, but he found that both his hands were shackled to the side of the bed that he was lying on. He yanked at them hard, but they were on there tight. He felt the skin on his wrist rubbing roughly onto the handcuffs, cutting off his circulation.

"I've got a bone to pick with you," Angel states, clenching and unclenching his hands into fists.

Dean smirked.

"Well considering you part dog...that sounds about right."

Another smack hits the side of Dean's face. But he expected it, so it didn't hurt that bad.

"I've had enough of your mouth," Angel comments.

Dean rolled his eyes. "I'd like to give you some of my fist," he pulls at the chain on his wrist again, making his point, "but as you can see, I'm all tired up at the moment."

Sugar sucks her teeth.

"I've had enough of you."

Angel's head swoops over to her.

"Leave, then."

She stood her ground.

He pointed.

"I'm serious, Sugar. Go."

Her eyes bulged at him, then she pouted for a moment, then stormed out.

Dean shook his head.

These people as so dysfunctional...

Once Sugar was out of sight, Angel grabbed a rickety chair and sat down.

"Where's my brother?" Dean asks, still tugging at the chains.

Angel shrugged.

"Around."

Dean's face scrunched. "Gee, that's specific."

Angel smirked. He waved his hand and for the first time Dean noticed how long and yellow his fingernails were. Dean cringed a little.

Exhaling deeply, Angel says, "He's alive. Is that what you want to hear?"

"If it's the truth."

Angel nodded.

Dean was silent.

"We've been studying you for some time now. Following you. Learning you. Wanting you."

Dean looked away.

_Okay, that's creepy._

"Why?" Dean asks. This, he actually wanted to hear.

Angel rubbed his eye, his long fingernails brushing his jaw bone as he did.

"Because we were told about you. We heard that you were capable of things that other hunters were not. We heard that you were at the center of..."

Dean leaned forward a little.

"Center of what?"

Angel sat back, shaking his head. "Forget it. But the point is, once we turn you into one of us we won't have to worry about it anymore. Once we have you as one of our own we will be powerful enough to beat the rest of them."

Dean shook his head. "The rest of who?"

Angel was silent for a moment.

"Forget it."

"You said that already," Dean pushes, trying to get answers.

Angel rubs his eye, looking away.

Dean moves a little. "How long can you really keep this up anyway? I mean, we're in a freakin' McDonalds! People eat here. Somebody's bound to get suspicious..."

Laughing a little, Angel shakes his head. "That's where you're wrong kid. This town is more than half dead. We're lucky if we get more than one customer. And when we do, Sugar takes their order and Harvey cooks it," Angel shrugs. "And every once in a while Ronald walks around and talks to the kids."

Angel opened his mouth to speak again when Harvey and Ronald entered the room. Harvey carried food and water while Ronald carried an evil smile.

"So they're both awake," Ronald announces with a smile when he sees Dean's cold green up looking up at him.

Dean tried to sit up but the handcuffs wouldn't allow it.

"Both?" he says. "You were with by brother?"

Ronald shrugs, "Where else would I be?"

Something about that creeped Dean out.

Trying a different approach, Dean asks, "Can I see him?" nicely.

All of them laugh. Ronald shook his head. "You know that's not an option, Hund."

Dean was quiet.

"He was asking for you, though," Ronald continues. His face got darker. "Actually, he was screaming for you."

Dean swallowed hard.

"He got a little punishment for yelling, and by the end he was _crying_ for you. Almost _begging_ for you to swoop in and save him; like some type of superhero," Ronald says in a harsh tone.

By then, Dean could feel his blood boiling. "What'd you do to him?"

Ronald shrugged.

"You bastard!" Dean yelled, trying to sit up again.

The only thing Ronald did was laugh.

"You humans are like toys: so easy to play with."

Dean stopped. "Wha-"

Ronald shook his head. " You're a little on the gullible side," he states. "Liebling's fine, I assure you. But it's nice to see you care."

Feeling his heart going back to a regular rate, Dean took in a deep breath.

Ronald snapped at Harvey and he put the food on the bed. Angel looked up at Ronald who nodded his head. Once he got the 'okay', Angel leaned over Dean and unhooked his left arm, allowing him freedom and the ability to sit up.

They all headed for the door.

"We're gonna go see your brother," Angel says.

Dean looked up at them. "For what?"

He shrugs. "We feel he has a better chance of talking than you."

Swinging his legs over the side of the twin sized bed, Dean shook his head.

"We don't know any-"

The door was slammed shut and the sounds of locks could he heard. Making sure Dean stayed in the room.

Feeling defeated, Dean's shoulders slumped forward. Just as he did that, something caught his eye. Looking closely, Dean realized that it was a loose screw. He reached down, had to stretch a bit, and grabbed it. It wasn't too sharp, but it was definitely useable.

Wasting no time, Dean dug the end of the screw into the handcuff hole and got to work.

Dean made a decision then: He and Sam were getting out, and they were getting out in the 24 hours, hopefully less. No matter what.

* * *

_Eh, not much of a cliffhanger. But I thought you guys could use a break, lol. _

_***Announcer's Voice* On Next Week's Episode: **Dean's 24 hour count down begins..._

_Now kids, this brings us to the part that I DON'T have already written. So I'm not sure when the next update will be, but I'll try to make it quick, I promise. _

_Don't be shy; reviewing is your friend!_

_I'll give you a Sam and Dean action figure if you review :D_


	13. Chapter 13

_Author's Note: _You guys are so awesome. Thanks so much for staying with this story. I love you all !

_**Last Time...**_

-The Adlets locked Dean and Sam in separate rooms , hoping it would make them talk with the anxiety of not knowing what was happening to the other.

- Dean finds a loose screw on the ground and goes to work as he plans an escape for less than 24 hours.

_You may now return to your regularly scheduled program (:_

_

* * *

_**- Chapter Thirteen :**

"You know, once you're one of us-"

Sam shook his head and looked away. He hated even the sight of Ronald ;everything from his deep red hair to his caking, chipped make up. His teeth were just about as yellow as the jumpsuit he was in. Dirt and what seemed like grease was splattered on him here and there. No wonder this place never has any customers. The thought of Ronald was enough to scare any child away. But to Sam, he hated him on a completely different level than just his fear. Sam truly hated him. From what Sam would tell, there's no reason for the Adlets to treat them like this. All they've been saying is that it may possibly have something to do with their father and that they want to turn him and Dean into one of them for one reason or another.

"We don't wanna be one of you." Sam answers softly but sternly , like a child refusing medicine.

Ronald looks away, fake shock in his eyes. He makes even contact with Angel who had positioned himself in the corner of the room. He stood with crossed arms and leaned on the thick wall. He kept his eye sight on Sam, giving him this weird tingling feeling. If Sam could, he's smack the smirk right off Angel's face. He stood up straight and fixed his feet, keeping a sharp eye on Sam. Ronald looked over at him briefly then back at Sam. He shown his yellow teeth as he tried to give a warm smile, but it only disgusted Sam if anything.

"When will you realize that it doesn't really matter what you think?"

Sam blinked hard. Ronald's voice got fuzzy all of a sudden. He shook his head hard, trying to bring some alertness back into his body. Slowly, he opened his eyes again but didn't make eye contact with Ronald. Instead, he studied the floor he was chained to. He thought about Dean and if he was alright. Neither Ronald, Angel, or Harvey had mentioned him yet and Sam was getting worried. Sam knew that Dean was strong and was probably minutes away from thinking of a master plan, but he couldn't help but worry. Being in here hasn't exactly been a cake walk and Sam can't see it getting any easier. There were five of them- including Dagger- but Sam wasn't exactly sure about how he felt toward Dagger. From the fizziness in his head, he sort of remembered Dagger being the only one to actually help them when they really needed it ; but Sam had to keep in mind that these _animals _want to hurt them and will stop at nothing to get what they want.

Ronald put his hand on Sam's shoulder and he flinched.

"I won't hurt you unless you give me a reason on," Ronald states, keeping his hand on Sam. Making sure he doesn't look at Ronald, Sam finds a spot on the floor and focuses on it.

He didn't even see Ronald's hand grab his chin roughly and make Sam look at him.

"This type of disrespect will only end in consequences."

Sam gulped. He remembered being whipped and being water-boarded and Dean with the 'lightbulb' torture ; what could be worse? What else could they possibly do?

Reluctantly, Sam's weary eyes meet Ronald's for a moment. And even though he tried to disguise it, Sam could still see the evil in Ronald's eyes.

"Here's the deal," Ronald says. He quickly looks back at Angel again then at Sam. "Either you tell me everything you know about what's going to happen, or we'll break every _single **bone **_in your brother's body."

Sam studied his eyes, trying to see any hint of a lie in them, but he found none. There was no way of telling if Ronald was fibbing or not, but Sam wasn't really into pressing his luck when it came to Dean. But what was he to do? He doesn't know anything!

Shrugging, Sam looks away. "I don't know what to tell you," he says softly.

Again, Ronald turns his face toward him. "Tell the truth."

Sam swallowed, he tried to think of something to tell them. Something that would sound legit, but there was no telling if they were going to ask Dean right after him; or if they asked him already. Sam and Dean were good, but they weren't that good. They can't think of a fake story and guarantee that the other one would say the exact same thing. Sam was out of options. So he settled for what Ronald wanted : he told the truth.

"We don't know," he says. Making himself look at Ronald was hard for two reasons: one, despite the fact that he had been controlling his fear and the urge to kick Ronald in the head, Sam was still scared whether he showed it or not; and two , he was suddenly dead tired. He had to keep blinking to ensure his eyes would stay open. Everything was tilting slightly and had a dizzy feeling to it. Sam tried to shrug it off and stay focused but it was hard. Making himself look down, he seen the white bandaged wrapped around his stomach and the deep red coloring that was expanding. Just as he looked down at it, he felt the pain again. His face scrunched and he shifted his body a little. Slowly, he breathed in and out.

Ronald looked at him questioningly.

"Liebling?"

Sam doesn't answer. He feels Ronald's hand on his shoulder and shrugs it off, making it fall to the ground.

"Listen," Sam says through clenched teeth. His stomach burned, his head was pounding, and his mind was beginning to get clouded again. He did all he could to have this sentence even make sense. "I don't know who told you about us, but they're wrong, okay? Me and my brother have nothing to do with whoever you guys are afraid of-"

Ronald's huge hand smacks the side of Sam's face, leaving a tingling sensation on his lips. He closed his eyes and took in a breath.

"We're not _afraid_ of anyone. Do you understand?"

Sam opened his eyes slowly. "Whatever," he mumbles.

This time, Ronald lays a punch across Sam's face, just under his eye. Just from the impact of it, Sam could tell that it'll be black in a couple of hours.

Ronald stands, shaking his head.

"You know, I not a big fan of your attitude lately, Liebling."

Sam rolls his eyes.

Almost like he couldn't control himself, Ronald drops to his knees and wraps his hand around Sam's neck, pushing it back onto the wall. The darkness in his eyes told Sam the he wouldn't hesitate to kill him if he was pushed enough. Showing his canine teeth, Ronald growled audibly. In his ears, Sam could hear his heart beating and his blood flowing. All around, everything was beginning to get harder and harder to see and not being able to breathe didn't help any. With the hand that wasn't chained, he tried to pry Ronald's hand off his throat but he was no way near strong enough. The pressure that surrounded Sam's head was nearly unbearable. It literally felt like it was going to explode. Sam still pulled on Ronald's hand though, but it didn't so much of anything but use what little energy he had left.

Just when Sam felt he was about to pass out, Ronald's hand ripped from his throat and his airway opened up again. He gasped for air and coughed violently which only made matters worse from him. His stomach screamed in pain from the quick movements but he couldn't help it. Fighting the raging pain in his stomach, the clutching pain in his lungs and throat and the struggle to get air back into his body, Sam did all he could to stay conscious. He hunched over, his back raising and falling with each struggled breath he took in. He could feel all eyes on him, he didn't like that.

He could hear them talking.

"What the hell was that?" Angel asks Ronald in a surprised tone.

There was silence for a moment, then Ronald finally spoke up. "I guess I lost control of myself for a second."

Angel laughed. "You almost killed the kid."

"If that's what it takes..."

Everyone looked over at Ronald in awe.

"What?" Harvey asks, moving a little closer.

Sam can hear the darkness in Ronald's voice.

"I'm done playing games. I'm starting to think Angel and Sugar were right."

There was a moment of silence before Angel asks, "'Bout what?"

Ronald clears his throat, making sure Sam heard him perfectly. "I think it's time we simply beat the truth out of them."

Sam forced himself to look up at Ronald.

He cocked his eyebrow at Sam.

"You've had enough," he says, heading for the door. "But your brother on the other hand..."

Sam pulled at the chain around his wrist.

"No," he says as loud as he could with the pain still running though his body. Sam shook his head. "Leave him alone..."

Ronald stops in the doorway, a slight smile across his face.

"... please?" Sam says.

Ronald closes the door and walks back over to Sam.

"What're you trying to say?" he asks, amusement in his voice.

Sam sighed, holding one arm across his stomach.

"Just leave my brother alone. He didn't do anything to you. Whatever you're planning on doing to him... just do to me, okay?" Sam dropped his head a little, but kept steady eye contact with the clown.

Angel and Ronald exchange looks. Then they both set their sights on Sam. His face showed pain, but his eyes showed fearlessness. Ronald was quite shocked considering Sam's condition. Ronald would never admit this aloud, but he was kind of impressed at Sam's actions. The kid was pretty strong, even if he had to say so himself.

In the back of his mind, Sam knew he was nowhere near prepared for whatever was about to happen to him, but he'd much rather have it done to him than to Dean.

Right in the middle of his thoughts, he had seen Angel walking toward him. His face hard as stone as he unlocked Sam's wrist from the chain and lifted him. He walked out the door with Sam.

"Just remember you asked for it, kid..."

***All Jokes Aside***

Dean had just felt the handcuff slip off his wrist when the door swung open.

Ronald and Angel stormed in. Dean dropped the screw into the bed.

"Trying to escape?" Angel asks in a dark tone.

Dean didn't say anything. The answer to that question was pretty obvious. Did they really think that if they leave him in a room alone with a screw that he wasn't going to try to escape?

Both Ronald and Angel lifted him to his feet.

Dean struggled, trying to break out of their grasp.

"What the hell are you doing? Get off me!"

Both of the Adlets laughed a little as they pulled Dean along.

"Just relax," Ronald says. "We got something we wanna show you; but I can guarantee that you're not gonna like it. "

* * *

_Uh-oh ! That can't be good, can it?_

_What do you think's gonna happen?_

_***Announcer's Voice* On next week's episode: **Sam's just hanging around while Dean's seconds from digging out his eyes and breaking his eardrums. _

_Don't be shy; please review!_

_It'll make me really, really happy :D_


	14. Chapter 14

_Author's Note: _Wow, you guys are so awesome. Just thought you should know that... :D

**_Last Time..._**

Sam volunteered to be the Adlet's punching bag in place of Dean.

_You may now return to your regularly scheduled program (:_

_

* * *

_**- Chapter Fourteen :**

Angel and Ronald both tightened their grip on either of Dean's arms as they literally swept him off his feet and dragged him down the hall. They exchanged eye contact for a minute before fixing their eyes forward, not responding to Dean's resisting nature. It wasn't until now when Dean actually seen first hand how strong they actually were. He was sure there would be semi-permanent hand prints on his arms when all of this is over. Dean wasn't even resisting much at this point and he wasn't sure why they still refused to put him closer to the ground to walk himself. He felt the toes of his feet brush against the floor ever so often, but it wasn't close enough to be able to walk. Dean pulled both his arms, trying to have them loosen their grip but the only tightened it. His arms were throbbing as they continued down the hall. On either side of them were doors and Dean couldn't help but wonder which room they put Sam in.

"What the hell are you doing?" Dean questioned, struggling in their grip again. Neither of them answered ; they simply kept moving.

Finally, they came to the final thick door and Ronald opened it slowly, as if trying to add more suspense to the the whole situation. He looked over at Angel for a brief seconds before pushing the door open. As soon as it was ajar, the horrible smell of blood ran out the room and masked Dean's face. He leaned to the side coughing. The smell didn't seem to have an effect on Angel and Ronald whatsoever. Dean tried to pull back, suddenly worried about what may be inside waiting for him. He was escorted forcefully inside and to the right of the room. Even though Dean struggled some more for what it's worth, but it didn't really accomplish anything but Ronald and Angel squeezing his arms tighter, cutting off his circulation. When they got to the wall Angel have his a quick shove and Dean stumbled to the ground without much of a fight. The smell was really getting to him. He coughed again. A second later, Ronald and Angel were shackling his feet to the ground, ensuring that he'd stay in one place. Dean tugged at the chains on his feet even though his gut told his that they wouldn't budge. To no one's surprise: they didn't. Quietly and sort of creepily, Ronald and Angel simply walked away, leaving Dean in the darkness. He couldn't really see anything. He could barely see his hand in front of his face. Very faintly he could see some movement in the dark but wasn't positive of what it was. Dean was worried. Not for himself, though, but for Sam. He wasn't sure where he was or if he was alright. Sure, Ronald had said earlier that Sam was okay, but Dean couldn't trust his word. Letting his head fall back onto the brick wall that surrounded the room they were in, Dean sighed. He was chined in a blood-smelling room. There was no escape. Not now, that is. So Dean figured he had nothing else to do but wait.

Just then, a light came on. A single light. But what it illuminated made Dean forget how to breathe. What he seen was Sam with his hands tied tightly and that same rope was hanging his from the ceiling. His head was bowed into his chest, Dean was unable to see his face. Sam's hands were red from being hung and tied that way. He seen his hands squeezed into tight fists, the strain on his hands becoming more and more hurtful. The light above him made his hair sort of shine and outlined his body in a way that reminded Dean of an angel or something. Which was quite ironic. Sam's feet barely touched the blood-stained floor. He swayed back and forth slightly and Dean could only imagine it made his arms hurt even more. Dean noticed that they had removed the long, white bandages that Dagger had wrapped around Sam's torso. He could see them laying on the ground a few feet away from Sam. Considering the circumstances, Sam's cuts and bruises looked better. Dagger did a pretty good job, but Dean would never tell him that to his face because no matter how many good deeds he does for them, Dagger is still a part of the Adlets and will always have the potential to be dangerous and untrustworthy. Dean pressed his hand to his chest, trying to take in a breathe. Looking around, Dean couldn't see anyone's shadow but his own and Sam's. Where the hell did Angel and Ronald go? Surely, they wouldn't just leave Sam and Dean in here alone. That's too easy.

Even though he was unsure of Sam simply had his head down or if he was unconscious, Dean took his chances. He gathered his voice and cleared his throat a little. "Sam?"

Almost like his voice was some kind of password, two more lights came on. Dean squinted at them, and looked around the room. Ronald walked over to him with a smug smile on his face. He crouched down in front of Dean.

"Get the picture yet?"

Dean swallowed hard. He kept eye contact with Ronald.

"What the hell did you do to him?"

Ronald looked over at Sam then back at Dean. He shrugged and smiled. "We just made him sleep for a while, that's all. You should be thanking us, he needed the rest, you know. Poor kid was exhausted."

Dean looked over Ronald's shoulder and up at Sam again. He still hadn't move yet and Dean could feel his heart beginning to race. He did all he could to keep himself under control. Dean opened his mouth to say something but he suddenly lost his voice when he seen Angel open a door in the back and pull out a whip. Dean's eyes went big and he shook his head.

"No," Dean says.

Ronald smiles. "Yes."

Angel smacks the whip on the ground hard and Dean jumps. He circles Sam slowly, taunting Dean more than anything.

"No," Dean repeats. "Just- do it to me... he can't go through this again. Take me, okay? I won't even fight you, I promise."

Ronald takes a glance at Angel and they both laugh a little. Dean's face showed confusion; obviously he didn't get the joke. Ronald looks back over to him and pats Dean's shoulder, shaking his head. "That's nice of you, Hund. But you see, Liebling already insisted that we punish him instead."

Dean shook his head. "Instead of what."

Angel sighed. "Instead of you, dumbass."

Ronald nodded as he stood. "You got one hell of a brother, kid."

Dean let out a shaky breath. Sam was doing this for him?

Angel continues to circle Sam as he stares coldly at Dean. He smiles at him and twirls the whip in his hand slowly, watching Dean's eyes follow it.

"We're just gonna ask you a few questions," Angel says softly. "And if you answer wrong..."

Dean swallows hard.

Angel smiles and gestures to Sam. "Well, he pays the price. Sound fair?"

Dean was silent for a minute. A minute too long, apparently. Angel slammed the whip on the ground, centimeters from Sam's body. Dean held his breath.

"I think he asked you a question," Ronald says scratching his deep red hair.

Nodding, Dean says "Yeah," trying to say anything from keeping Angel from hitting Sam.

Ronald and Angel exchange looks for a minute before Angel finally speaks up. "Are you gonna tell us the truth?"

Swallowing hard Dean shakes his head 'yes'.

Angel cocks back, gritting his teeth, and slams the whip against Sam's back. Instantly, Sam cried out and Dean squeezed his eyes shut.

"I said yes!" he yelled, angry.

Angel shook his head and shrugs. "Just making sure you were telling the truth."

Dean breathed in and out sharply, trying to sat calm.

"Did you come here with your father?" Ronald asked.

"Yes."

Angel smiled.

"Do you know what your father had planned for us?"

Dean shook his head. "My Dad isn't planning anything."

Angel's face showed anger. "Wrong," he says in a cold, hard voice.

Using a great deal of strength, Angel made the whip come in contact with Sam's stomach three times. Dean could see Sam biting his lip, trying to not make a sound as he was hit. The wounds that were beginning to heal had broken open again and the deep red blood was oozing out of them and sliding down Sam's stomach. Dean cringed, looking away. But he soon found it impossible when Ronald took hold of his head, forcing him to look at Sam. Angel cocked back again.

_Kwa-tish!_

_Kwa-tish!_

_Kwa-tish!_

Three more heart-ripping times, Angel made his whip hit Sam's stomach. His brother cried out in pain, but held back the urge to scream at the top of his lungs. Dean tired to look away, he needed to, but Ronald's hand wouldn't allow that. He tried to cover his ears, try to black some of this out, but Ronald wouldn't allow that either. He made Dean sit and watch; and being chained to the floor make him feel helpless and unworthy of even thinking about saving Sam. Dean looked up at Sam's hands. They were curling and uncurling into fists slowly. Dean guessed that was Sam's way of trying to control the pain. Sam's eyes were closed and Dean thanked _all_ the Pie-Lords for that ; because he knew that if Sam actually looked at him, he couldn't take it. Sam would stare at him with those eyes and have that look that no one-Dean included- couldn't give in to. But Dean thinks that Sam know that. From what he can tell from his all-too-close seat on the floor was that Sam was doing all he could to not make this worse for Dean than it already is; which made Dean feel even worse. Dean should be the one trying to make this easier for Sam. He's the one getting beat again after all. But no, both of them knew that this was just as hard on Dean as it is on Sam... maybe worse.

_Kwa-tish!_

Angel took a second to look over at Dean.

"Are you really _that_ much of a suck-up to your father that you'd rather watch your little brother, who's already taking the beating _for_ you, than to just tell us what your father is planning?" Angel asked in a cold voice. His words swam around in Dean's mind for a moment, making him feel horrible about himself. Dean shook his head, but it had no used.

_Kwa-tish!_

Ronald leaned in closer.

"You know," he starts in a creepy voice. "I'm not even sure about turning you anymore... I don't even think you're worthy of it. But Liebling on the other hand, well, I'm more interested in making him one of our own than I have ever been." Ronald leans in a little closer. "He deserves better than you and you know it."

"We don't know anything! We don't know anything! How many times to we have to say it!"

_Kwa-tish!_

Angel cocks an eyebrow at Dean. "Want me to stop?" he taunts.

He doesn't even give Dean a chance to answer before he hits Sam again.

"Huh?" Angel questions. "I can't hear you..."

Ronald leans in again. "You know you're calling the shots here, right? Just tell us what we want to hear... and we'll leave your brother alone."

Ronald puts his hand on Dean's shoulder. "C'mon kid, spit it out."

From the corner of his eye, Dean seen Angel cock his arm back further than he'd seen before; and he could see the darkness and hatred in his eyes as he gathered all his strength.

_KWA-TISH!  
_

That one must've been loud enough for everyone in the McDonalds to hear. Dean watched as everything seemed to happen in slow motion. He seen the whip crash against Sam's stomach as seen as it broke skin and started bleeding. The blood was like a waterfall as it tumbled down Sam's midsection and onto the floor-

- - and Sam screamed at the top of his lungs. It was a blood stopping, ear popping, heart ripping, stomach churning scream that was enough to be the hand to push Dean over the edge.

Dean jumped.

"Alright, alright, stop!" Dean yelled, slamming his hand on the ground. "I'll tell you, okay? Just stop...please?"

Almost immediately Angel looks over to Ronald for approval before he says, "Okay."

Dean dropped his head for a moment, buying him time. He needed something that sounded real and he needed it quick.

"My Dad," he says. "He's been talking about you guys for months. But me and Sam... we never knew that you guys were. I couldn't tell you that they're planning; honestly, I couldn't. But I can tell you that keeping us like this had pissed my Dad off, and he will come for you," Dean turned his head to the side, keeping calm. "I bet he's on his way right now. You see, doing all of this to us is _nothing_ to what he's gonna do when he sees what you did to my brother." Dean looked at both of them, and for a split second he seen fear in their eyes. "He and some other hunters are hot on your trial. I guess they've spotted you before you've spotted us, maybe. I'm not sure how much they know; but they know, and they will come for you. Did you think that you could just take us and not be hunted for it?" Dean shook his head. "That's all I know, I swear. Sam knows less than me, so questioning him in the first place was useless."

Ronald and Angel exchange looks.

"Now put him down," Dean says in a strong voice, gesturing to Sam who is still hung by his hands from the ceiling.

Ronald gives Angel a nod and he reaches up and pulls the rope and Sam goes crashing to the ground. Dean watches as his body goes face first to the ground. He couldn't even put his hands out because they were still tied and probably hurt like hell, too.

Just as Angel exited the room, Ronald unchained Dean's legs, setting him free. Dean moved as fast as he could to Sam in the middle of the room.

The Adlets exited the room slowly.

"It's about time you told us what we wanted to hear," Ronald says coldly.

Angel nods.

"We'll get Dagger in a little bit."

The heavy door was closed and multiple locks could be heard on the other side. Once they were sure they were gone, Dean lifted Sam's head onto his arms, but he didn't even try to wake him. He was out cold, that was obvious. The only thing that kept Dean remotely sane was the fact that he could feel Sam's stomach expanding and contracting quickly than slowly against his and Sam's breath hitting his arm.

And in that moment something in Dean finally snapped. He had to give himself a hand for holding it together this long. But they had gone too far. Dean was at a point of no return. He was out for blood and wouldn't stop until _all_ of them were dead.

***All Jokes Aside***

John pounded hard on Bobby's door.

"Bobby, it's me! Open up!"

The door swung open and Bobby looked up at him sleepily.

"John? What the-"

"Something's got the boys," John cut in. " I need your help."

For a moment, Bobby looked at him suspiciously. He went behind the door and came back with a silver liquor bottle in his hand. He pointed it toward John, but he declined.

"Bobby I don't have time for this-"

But Bobby didn't care. He pushed the bottle out further. "I just need to be sure."

Aggravated, John took a long sip from the bottle and handed back to Bobby. When he didn't blow smoke or cripple to the ground in pain, Bobby was more accepting.

He nodded at him and smiled.

"I'll get my things. You can explain on the way."

* * *

_For some reason, that chapter was really hard to write so feedback would be wonderful. _

_***Announcer's Voice* On Next Episode... **Bobby and John to the rescue...hopefully. _

_Don't be shy. Gimmie something to read [:_


	15. Chapter 15

_Author's Note: _For those who reviewed- thanks so much. I really appreciated reading that you thought of the last chapter. It was kind of difficult for me to write. For those who didn't review- well, I hope to see you soon.

_**Last Time...**_

Dean lied about what he knows to get Sam's torturing to stop. Also, John has gotten Bobby and they're on their way.

_You may now return yo your regularly scheduled program (:_

_

* * *

_**- Chapter Fifteen :**

Anger.

Dean sat there on his knees with Sam's head resting on his arm. With the other one around his brother, he rocked back and forth ever-so gently. Dean's eyes were a cold forest green as he stared down at Sam's statue-like face. His mind was like a broken VHS player. Everything that happened to them since they entered the McDonalds played in the back of Dean's head. He hated that. It was something he had no control over. But when he thought about what had just happened, it only made matters worse. He'd see Angel pulling back is arm with the whip in his hand, going to hit Sam. Then, almost in slow motion, the whip would come in contact with Sam's body and Dean would cringe a little. Everytime Dean tried to make the thought go away, it would simply start again. Rewind... stop... play... rewind... stop... play... There was no way to make it stop. There was no way to make it go away; and that only made his anger boil at it's brim, daring to be pushed to it's final limit. Deep breaths were worthless right now. Nothing could make this feeling go away. He couldn't stop his heart from racing and he couldn't make his blood flow any slower.

Guilt.

How on earth did Dean let this happen? His father had said it over and over again : 'Look out for your brother. Keep him safe', and Dean couldn't even do that. He'd screwed up and he'd screwed up royally. Even though he would tell his father that he did all he could to make sure Sam was alright, nothing would be a good enough excuse in Dean's book. In the back of his mind, he'll always know that this is his fault for Sam ending up like this. Everything that has happened so far is his fault; and not even a million 'I'm sorry''s will be good enough. Even if Sam gets better, Dean will always feel this way about himself. Dean knows that his father will them his that it's alright and that he did his best, but it wouldn't make up for the hell that Sam went through. He also knows that Sam will tell him not to worry about it, tell him that he forgives him, tell him that he had no control over what has happened; but still, Dean will have this weight on his shoulders. And feeling guilty is an awful weight to carry.

Hatred.

When Sam and Dean were younger their father used to tell them not to hate things. He used to tell them not to worry about what they didn't have, but be thankful for what the did have. John used to tell them that you shouldn't waste your time thinking about how much you don't like someone; it only makes your hatred grow stronger and it's puts you in a bad mood and a bad attitude. For a while, Dean tried his hardest to abide by what his father had told them. If he didn't like someone, he'd simply stay away from them. But as Dean got older, doing that got harder. Especially now. Dean couldn't put into words how much he hated these bastards that had done this to them. He hated every little thing about them. From Ronald's caked make up and sickening, crooked smile to Angel's devilish laugh and his alpha dog personality. In ways, Dean even hated Dagger. Even though he has done nothing to hurt them, he's still a part of the Adlets. Hate's a strong word, Dean knew that, and he means it to it's highest potential.

Doubt.

As much as it killed him to say it, Dean was getting suspicious about his father. It's pretty obvious that something's wrong when it's been hours since they first entered the fast food joint. John much know something's up. But what was taking him so long. Dean understood that the doors were locked, but what's stopping his father from breaking them in, charging down here, guns a'blazing? And ever since Angel told Dean that they were exactly what they were looking for because he and Sam were John's children only made Dean even more doubtful. Dean honestly didn't like to say it, he never wants to lose faith in his father, but enough is enough. The only thing that Dean could hope for is that his dad had a master plan and that he planned on putting it into action soon.

Worry.

Out of all things, this is what had Dean in a chokehold. As he looked down at Sam's unmoving body, he couldn't help but think of the worse possible outcomes. Dean stared and he stared hard, hoping that somehow he could mind-control Sam's eyes to open. Unfortunately, they didn't. Dean sighed, closing his eyes for a second. When he did, he felt tears building up behind them. Instantly, Dean slapped them back open. Dean was _not _going to cry. That is the last thing he needs to do. Cry is a weakness, and being weak is not an option at this point. Pulling Sam closer, Dean looked around the room but they fell back onto his brother's sleep-like form in his arms. Forcing himself to look down a little further, Dean took in the damage on Sam's midsection. Everything was worse. There was more blood, more cuts, more pain, more everything. Dean shuttered; another wave or guilt washing over him. He swallowed hard. The only thing Dean could really do for Sam at this point was this : keep him warm, wait for Dagger, and get him out of this hell house fast...

***All Jokes Aside***

"What the hell are these things?" Bobby asked, looking over at John.

He shrugged. "Not exactly sure, but my friend Ken, from back in Iowa, told me it might be Adlets."

Bobby's face scrunched in confusion as he loaded the gun with rock-salt. "Adlets?"

"Yup," John replied. He make a quick right and pressed down hard at the gas pedal. At his rate, they'd be back at the McDonalds within the hour. "Don't know too much about them, but the seem to know a thing or two about me."

Looking over toward the right, Bobby waited for John to finish.

"I guess they heard I was good at hunting... reallly good. Especially since I might be one step closer to Yellow Eyes," John informs. " Ken says they think that I might be targeting them."

Bobby shakes his head. "Are they tied to the Yellow Eyed Demon?"

John picks up speed. Talking about this is making him more and more worried.

"Don't know. But they may just be one of those things that want my head on a chapping block."

Clearing his throat, Bobby says, "Fair enough, but why Dean and Sam? They have nothing to do with whatever grudge they have against you."

John sighs. "Bait, maybe?"

Bobby huffs. "Bait, huh? So that means that they're probably okay."

He puts his hand on John's shoulder and squeezes it a little.

"I bet they're fine, John," Bobby says a little louder when John doesn't respond.

Gripping the steering wheel tighter, John lets out an aggravated grunt.

"Alive, Bobby. All I want them to be is alive."

There was heavy silence in the car as both men suddenly worried about the brother's heath and well being. Each of them thinking of the same possibility but none of them daring enough to say it aloud.

"So, while talking to this Ken character, did he ever mention how to get rid of these sons of bitches?" Bobby asked, changing the subject and breaking the silence all at once.

John nodded. "Yeah, we've gotta burn those bastards until there's nothing left."

Bobby nodded with a faint smile on his face, liking the idea.

"So how do we get in without them noticing?"

John shrugs. "I couldn't care less about them noticing us. The real question is: how do we get my son's out safely?"

Looking in the other direction, Bobby stares out the window, thinking of ways and plans.

"But it doesn't matter how it happens," John says a loud in a cold voice. "No matter what, I'm getting my boys back."

***All Jokes Aside***

Dagger stayed longer thank usual. He checked Sam's temperature and a disappointed expression crept onto his face. At this point, Dean didn't even want to know. After that, he did as he'd done before : he cleaned Sam's wounds and wrapped his stomach with that sterilized white cloth to keep the germs out. Throughout the whole time, Sam didn't even make a sound. He just lie there, not even moving a muscle. The only reaction Dean did take notice of is when Dagger poured the alcohol onto his open wounds, his body jerked gently from the pain, but he was miles and miles from waking up.

"Dag, this is getting old," Dean says with an aggravated pout on his face.

A brief look was all Dagger's reply.

Continuing, Dean says, "Do you really see the point in all of this? Does torturing young boys get your dog senses in a frenzy or something?"

Looking up slowly, Dagger shakes his head.

"We are not sexually attracted to you or your brother," he answers in a dull voice.

Shrugging, Dean replies, "Then what the hell is all of this for?"

Dagger was silent.

"Okay, so you're after my Dad, I get that. But me and Sam have done nothing to you guys. Why can you just let us go?"

A moment of dead silence passes.

"Ronald has a plan," Dagger announces. "He wants to turn both of you into one of us to assure our safety."

Dean nods, trying to make sense of all of this. "Safety from what?"

"All the hunters. We hear that your father is one of the best. Having him on our trail would be horrible."

Dean literally felt his jaw drop. "What the hell do you think you just did? Keeping us here will only make my dad more and more angry. You guys set yourself up for failure."

Dagger shrugged. "Maybe so. But once you're both one of us, we can be safe. John would never kill you, even if you're an Adlet. That gives us a chance to go far, far away from here. Away from society. Away from everything."

For a moment, Dean let everything that Dagger said sink in.

"I can tell you're different," Dean says softly.

Agreeing, Dagger nods. "Very."

Seeing this as an opening, Dean took the only chance he seen at the moment.

"And I can tell you don't want to hurt us. I can see that in the way you take care of my brother. You could easily let him bleed to death, or let his fever run mad, or let infection set in... but you don't. Dagger, I think you care."

He was silent.

Dean went on.

"I know that you have a good heart, Dagger. Even if you don't know it. And I can see that you don't want to see Sam like this anymore... almost as much as I don't..."

The only things Dagger did as nod, but his mood clearly changed.

"So if you feel this way, and you claim that you're different, why do you continue to do what you do? What do you stay with these animals? Why don't you let us go?"

Dean bit his lip in anticipation of Dagger's response.

A second went by...

Then two...

Then three...

Finally he stood and gathered his things.

"Tonight," he started. "Harvey, Angel, and I are going to be gone. We're told to go find a safe spot to stay and to gather much food," Dagger looked Dean clear in the eye. "There will only be Ronald and Sugar here with you for hours."

Dagger turned his back and headed for the door. He closed it softly and Dean expected to hear the sound of the loud chains locking them in... but he heard none.

He felt his eyes light up.

Did he hear right?

Is Dagger actually giving him an opening?

Only two Adlets will be here tonight, and Dagger left the door unlocked for them. Dean smiled almost evilly as he plotted his revenge.

But suddenly a thought shot into his head that made him question everything:

_Can Dagger be trusted?_

* * *

***Announcer's Voice* On Next Episode: **Dean builds a fort while John and Bobby have a demolition derby.

_Don't be scared; reviewing is your friend! [:_

_Hey everyone, please go vote on my poll and tell me which story idea you like the most. I'll probably pick one of those to be my next story. Go vote!_


	16. Chapter 16

_Author's Note: _You guys are awesome. Thanks to those who are sticking with this story. Now will be the time to show your support; only about one, maybe two more chapters (?)

**_Last Time..._**

Dagger give Dean an opening but Dean's unsure if he should take it.

_You may now return to your regularly scheduled program (:_

_

* * *

_**- Chapter Sixteen :**

"There, there!" John exclaimed when he seen the golden 'M' glowing in the distance. "We're almost there."

Bobby nodded.

He checked his lighter, making sure it turned out quickly. He checked his guns, made sure his hands were steady, and calmed himself. He needed to be sharp. There will be no mess-ups tonight. They've already made the biggest one by letting Sam and Dean be captured by these bastards. Bobby was here to make sure everything else was smooth sailing.

Looking over his shoulder, Bobby noticed the tense face John wore and shook his head. His hands were tapping the steering wheel anxiously and his breathing was far from uneven. Bobby was worried. It was obvious that John was felling guilty and the more he and Bobby sat in silence it only made matters worse. Bobby wished that there was something he could do to calm him a little, but he knew there was nothing. But he couldn't resist the urge to try. He _had_ to do something. There was no way Bobby was letting John inside of that McDonalds that jittery and anxious. Sure, he had a rightful reason to be that way. Hell, his kids were trapped inside there with maniacs. But going inside of there unsure of your shot and yourself will help nothing. Both John and Bobby needed to be on point from here on out. That was the only way to get the boys back.

***All Jokes Aside***

Dean pondered.

What could he do?

Could he trust Dagger?

Looking down at his brother, Dean sure hoped to God that he could. It had been about thirty minutes since Dagger had left them and Dean was sure that whoever is supposed to have left had done that by now. Letting his eyes fall down on Sam he sighed. He rubbed small circles in the center of his chest, hoping that it would make breathing a little better.

"Just a little while longer, Sammy. I promise. We're getting out of here with or without Dad."

***All Jokes Aside***

Screeching tires was all that could be heard echoing through the pitch black night. Bobby had to hold on to the side of his seat to keep from smacking into the window of the Impala. John slid right up to the front door and hoped out the car. Bobby followed with the guns and gasoline in his hand.

He reached in the backseat and tossed John his gun. He checked it and then cocked it.

"You feeling alright?" Bobby asked, looking at him, then at the McDonalds, then back at him.

John shrugged, shook his head 'yes' and shook his head 'no' all at the same time.

Bobby frowned.

"John-"

He put his hand up.

"I'll be fine when we get the boys back, okay? Until then I'm just...numb."

***All Jokes Aside***

Sam mumbled something that was barely audible, but it surely caught Dean's attention. His head swooped to his lap where Sam's head lay and he smiled when his eyes were looking up at him. Dean patted the said of his face, trying to keep him awake.

"Hey," Dean breathed, smirking.

Sam nodded at him, squinting.

"You're just in time to see the show..."

***All Jokes Aside***

Charging in like troops, John and Bobby jogged side-by-side to the front door. Bobby was yanking on it before John had a chance to tell him that it wouldn't open. Questingly, Bobby looked back at him.

John shrugged. "Locked."

He seen Bobby's eyes roll. "You try breaking it?"

John nodded. "For a while, yeah. Thing won't budge."

Taking a step back, Bobby cocked his gun and aimed it at the glass keeping the door locked. He waved John back into a safe zone before he shot.

Without much effort, the bullets pierced the glass, breaking through; their shells lay on the inside of the fast food joint.

Without hesitation, Bobby kicked out what was left and squeezed between the two metal slivers making up the perimeter of the door. John followed shortly after, shaking his head. He felt dumb.

Why hadn't he thought of that?

***All Jokes Aside***

"Show?" Sam questioned, his eyes wandering aimlessly around the room. He couldn't keep them focused. He could barely keep them open.

Dean leaned a little closer.

"We're gettin' out, Sam."

He was quiet.

"Seriously," Dean continues. "It's only Sugar and Ronald here tonight. I think I can take them."

Sam nodded, wishing he would help but knew he was nothing more than a hassle to Dean at this point. He was useless, really. What could he do?

Dean patted the side of his face. "Sam," he called.

Slowly, Sam eyes rolled back open.

"I'm gonna get you out of this, okay. Try not to worry."

Sam sighed. "I believe you..."

Dean smirked.

Just then, the heavy door opened and Sugar walked in, clearly with an attitude. She gives them a look.

"Ronald sent me," she announced.

Both brothers were quiet.

She bent down in front of them, looking closer at Sam. "He wants me to check on hi-"

Before she had a chance to finish her sentence, Dean landed both of his fists into the back of her head. The breath escaped her lungs and she hissed at him.

Dean stood, ready to fight.

She staggered to her feet, but she was clearly ready.

But before she had a chance to get her guard up, Dean punched her clean across the face. Quickly, she retaliated but catching him in the jaw, too. He held his mouth for a second. Hot pain running though his cheek. His tooth had grazed the stitches he had put into his mouth by Dagger.

Dean kicked.

She grabbed his leg, pushing him back.

He went flying a few steps but was back balanced on his feet in no time.

He faked like he was going to kick her again, but got her on the side of her head.

She was dazed; Dean could tell.

Taking that as his chance, Dean punched her three more times.

The side of her head was bleeding already.

Grabbing her by the hair, Dean led her head first into the closest wall.

She slid to the floor, another crack in her head.

Dean hunched over, out of breath. His stomach hurt, probably from exerting so much energy without a lot of food and water. But he kept telling himself that Sam felt worse and that he needed to get out of here as soon as possible.

Still holding his aching stomach, Dean lifted Sam off the ground, trying to make him stand.

"C'mon, Sam. I need you now more than ever. You have to focus, okay?"

Sam tried to nod, tried to stand, tried to help, but his body wouldn't let him. He was near powerless.

He felt Dean pull him forward, struggling a little.

"Can you walk?"

Sam planted his feet hard onto the ground, following Dean's lead.

Sam was actually impressed that he was able to do that.

"Good job," he hears Dean praising him, just like he used to do when he was younger and did something right.

They exited the room.

Dean propped Sam up against the wall as he slammed the door that once confined them and locked up all the locks tightly.

Once he was sure they were secure, Dean put Sam's arm around his neck and his hand round Sam's waist, giving him support.

"You're doing so good, Sam," Dean whispers to him as they struggle down the hall as quick as Sam's feet would let them go.

Mentally, Dean check Sugar off his list.

One down, one to go...

***All Jokes Aside***

"It's dark," Bobby says, snapping on his flashlight.

John laughs a little sarcastically. "You're so observant, Bobby."

Both men walk into the place, ready to blast some heads off. But as they look around, they see nothing. They exchange glances and shrugs.

"I think maybe we should split up," John says.

Bobby nods. He point behind the cash register that leads into the kitchen area.

"You go in there," he instricts. Bobby points ahead and toward the right where the play pin is located. "I'll check in there."

John nods.

Bobby goes his way and John goes his.

***All Jokes Aside***

Getting out of the downstairs part of the McDonalds was quiet easy. Even the 'getting Sam up the stairs' part. Dean was really proud of the way he was trying, considering his injuries and whatnot.

Dean pushed the door open, pulling Sam along.

"We're almost out," Dean says encouragingly. "You're doing great, bro."

Dean leads his way to the exit when a sudden light takes him by surprise. Before the person has a chance to see them, he staggers back, pressing his and Sam's back against the cool tile.

Dean looked around frantically for a place to hide.

To his left, he spotted the bathrooms and made his way for them.

He let Sam in first, he followed closely after. Supporting Sam, he brought him over to the heater and Sam him on it. Sam sighed, thankful for the break. Dean ruffled his hair, telling him good job.

Looking around, Dean looked for something, anything to block the door, ensuring that no one would get in.

Dean searched through all the stalls frantically. In the handicap stall he noticed the bar on the side of the wall. Wasting no time, Dean used what was left of his energy to yank it off the wall. But when he finally did, he was thankful.

Wedging the pole in the door, Dean sighed.

He pulled on the door a few times, making sure the pole did it's job and was satisfied with the results.

Walking back over to his brother, Dean slid down onto the floor beside him.

"I think we're safe in here, Sam."

Dean shrugged.

"At least until I think of another plan."

* * *

***Announcer's Voice* On Next Week's Episode: **_Blankets have never been this handy and lifesaving..._

_Hey guess what! Tomorrow's my birthday! YAY! :D_

Please review (:


	17. Chapter 17 Final Chapter

_Author's Note: _You guys are awesome. Thanks to those who are sticking with this story.

**_Last Time..._**

Dean got rid of Sugar, but Ronald's still roaming around somewhere. Oh yeah, and Bobby and John are here :D

_You may now return to your regularly scheduled program (:_

_

* * *

_**- Chapter Seventeen :**

The loud banging on the bathroom door made Dean snap out of the staring contest he was having with the wall. His eyes shut and snapped open in a second. He sat forward, alert. He looked up at Sam who surprisingly still had his eyes open. He, too, had then fixed on the door that was now shaking because of whoever was hitting it. Slowly, Dean stood. He nodded at Sam, trying to tell him that everything will be okay. He looked around for a weapon, but there wasn't any. The only thing he had was the bar that was keeping the door closed. If the took that away, it would swing open, making them vulnerable to whoever was out there. Dean took a step forward cautiously. He swallowed the lump in his throat and told himself to be a man.

Dean made his way across the room and held his hand out in front of the pipe locking them in. He licked his lips and tried to calm his racing heart. Again, he looked back at Sam. He was scared. Terrified, really. He didn't know what to do and he couldn't do much. He could barely move without being in horrible pain. Dean sighed, forcing himself to look away.

In one quick movement, Dean yanked the pipe from the door and stammered backwards. The door violently slammed inward, inches from clipping his nose. The air bushed Dean's face as he moved backwards. In his hand he kept the pipe in a tight grip. He felt the sweat on his hands making his grip slippery. But he tried not to let that bother him. He just kept telling himself that he had a baby brother to protect and nothing was going to keep him from doing that.

Ronald stumbled in suddenly; taken by surprise when the door was suddenly easy to open. He held his hands out to block his fall as he ran into the thick plastic wall that divided the entrance of the bathroom from the main part of it. Air rushed out of Dean's lungs when he noticed the pitch black feature in Ronald's eyes. Dean backed away. But without hesitation, Ronald charged him. Thinking quickly, Dean raised the pipe and it caught Ronald in the throat. He fell to the floor but Dean knew he was far from being finished.

Almost instantly, Ronald jumped to his feet. He swung at Dean, catching the side of his face. Dean kept his balance.

"How the hell did you get out?" Ronald yelled.

Dean didn't answer. He kicked at Ronald's leg, making him a little unsteady. But Ronald brought a hard punch to Dean's stomach causing him to drop the pipe. He watched it hit the floor in what seemed like slow motion. He wasn't going to lose it, though. Just as he hit the floor, he grabbed it again. Dean kicked at Ronald from the floor. He got him right in the thigh. Ronald stumbled back holding his leg while Dean forced himself to his feet again.

That circled each other, tauntingly. Dean watched Ronald's every little move, knowing that it would be the one that would catch him off guard. Dean could feel Sam's eyes watching him closely, probably praying that he'll be okay. It was just like Sam. He was the one who's been loosing flood for hours, but he's worried about Dean.

Ronald lurched forward, catching Dean in the chin. Dean's teeth bit the bottom of his tongue. The sudden pain made him cry out. He bent over forward, holding his mouth. Taking that as his golden oppertunity, Ronald grabbed Dean's shirt, pulling him forward. He kneed Dean in the head twice before he ran him head first into the sink. Sam heard the bump when his head came in contact with it, he cringed.

Satisfied with himself, Ronald smiled. Then his vision swooped to Sam who was on the heater, still. Sam noticed him and tried to stand. He forced himself off the heater and onto the floor where he propped himself up against the wall for support. He couldn't out run Ronald, that was obvious, but when he got close enough Sam did take a swing at him. He landed it clean, but it didn't do much. He was too weak to have much power behind it. But still, he was twelve years old. He didn't have much strength yet. Especially not against someone like Ronald.

The clown laughed as he lifted Sam off his feet and out of the bathroom.

Dean tried to fight the darkness, but he couldn't. The last thing he seen was Ronald taking his brother out of the bathroom and Sam desperately reaching for him.

***All Jokes Aside***

From the corner of his eye, John seen someone very tall carrying someone over their shoulder. Almost instantly, he felt his heart skip a beat when the only possibility of the person's identity being one of his boys. He couldn't tell how tall the person was. He couldn't tell if it was Dean or Sam but he knew it was one of them and he found himself hoping with all his heart that they were alive. He honestly had nothing else to hope for.

Moving cautiously, John followed the person into the deeper part of the kitchen. He had no clue why they were going in the kitchen, but he needed to find out. He pressed his back to one of the freezers and looked over his shoulder to get a better look without being seen just yet. He seen the person was dressed in a yellow jumpsuit and he shook his head. What the hell was this? Is that the clown for McDonalds? Pushing the thought aside, he looked down at the person he was carrying. It was definitely am. John dropped his head, closing his eyes for a second trying to control his nerves and his anger at the same time.

Sam's head bobbled back and forth and John held his breath. Once the clown-looking person turned his back, John charged.

John locked his gun around his neck and pulled his back. The clown was taken by surprise and John could feel his body tense up. He elbowed John in the stomach twice, but he kept his grip. John yanked backwards honestly trying to pop his head off. He couldn't help but glance over at Sam who had fell to the floor when John attacked the man who was carrying him. His eyes were closed and for the first time, John noticed the horrible wounds on his stomach and the paleness to his face. John squeezed harder.

"You son of a bitch!" John yelled, continuing to choke the mystery person.

***All Jokes Aside***

John yell echoed off the walls of the play pin. Bobby quickly exited it and rushed toward the way he though it was coming from. From the corner of his eye he noticed the bathroom light breaking the darkness and was drawn to it. Maybe John was in there?

When he entered it, he felt his heart fill up with relief and worry all at once. Dean was on the ground, bleeding from the front of his head on the floor. But he could see the steady rise and fall of his chest and knew he was alive. Bobby rushed over to him.

"Dean," he called out, shaking him.

Almost immediately, Dean's eyes peeled open and his first expression was shocked.

"Bobby?" he breathed, not believing it.

The older man nodded.

"I'm here, son. It's okay now. You're gonna be okay."

Dean looked around frantically, he grabbed Bobby's shirt collar.

"Sam," he says. "He took Sam, Bobby. I gotta get him back."

Bobby nodded.

"_We'll _get him back. Don't you worry."

With that, Bobby helped Dean to his feet, making sure he was able to walk on his own. Once he was sure Dean would make it for now, they rushed out of the bathroom to look for John and Sam.

***All Jokes Aside***

Somehow, the clown broke loose of John's death grip. He pushed John back and went running deeper into the kitchen like a punk. For the time being, John didn't care. He dropped to the floor and pulled Sam into his arms. He tapped the side of his face.

"Sam wake up," he calls. John cautiously looks around, expecting the person to rush back in any second. He felt his heart speed up when Sam's eyes didn't open immediately. He shook him harder.

"Sam please wake up. C'mon, kiddo, open your eyes."

Just then, Sam's eyes fluttered open slowly and John cracked a smile. Sam blinked at him, clearly confused, but he didn't have time to explain now. Sort of overwhelmed, he pulled Sam into a hug, carding through his hair for a moment.

"I'm so sorry," he apologized, feeling guilty for everything he had been though.

Out of nowhere, a bright light was shined on he and Sam. Before he had a chance to react, he heard footsteps approaching him and someone call out, "Dad!"

Dean.

John brought himself to his feet, Sam still on his arms. Dean hugged him, too and John was more than happy to see him alive. Bobby joined in on the hug, too.

But the reunion was cut short when there was the sound of something dropping in the back of the kitchen.

"Ronald," Dean whispered.

"Who?"

"Ronald," he repeated. "He was one of the ones that did this to Sammy."

John pushed Sam into Dean's arms and gave him a look that told him to stay where he was. Bobby and him charged forward.

From where Dean was standing he heard a lot of yelling, things being thrown and the sound of a struggle. Then there were gunshots and Dean flinched a few times. He stayed quiet though, looking down at Sam every once in a while. There were heavy footsteps more yelling and people falling. He hoped it wasn't his dad or Bobby. There was more yelling a few more gunshots then it was dead quiet.

Dean gulped.

What had happened?

Suddenly, he seen his dad running out from the back with red-ish looking blankets in his hand.

He immediately threw one over Dean's shoulders and draped one over Sam, too.

"Go outside, Dean. As fast as you can!"

Dean had heard that before. And he wasn't about to take any chances. He bolted for the door with Sam in his arms. There were footsteps behind him and seconds later there was a loud blast, and a huge heat wave knocked him off his feet. He and Sam hit the ground hard and slid a few feet. Dean could feel glass shattering around him. Everything was so loud he couldn't even hear his heart beating. The whole McDonalds was up in flames.

Someone gripped him by the wist and pulled him into their arms. Sam was taken from him again and he was being carried.

Seconds later the cool wind from outside hit him, making him more alert. He pushed the blankets off his face and looked up at Bobby who was carrying him. Looking to the right, he seen Sam in his father's arms.

Dean sighed.

They were safe.

Once they were at the car, Bobby let him back on his feet; while John gat Sam settled in the back seat.

"What happened?" Dean asked, scratching the side of his head.

"The only way to kill them is to burn 'em," John explained with his head tucked in the car. "We sprayed gasoline on Ronald and a bunch of it got to the bottom of the stove. Luckily Bobby seen it. So I grabbed the fire blankets as quick as I could to put around you two. Then, it just... blew."

Dean was quiet.

He felt Bobby lead him into the back seat also. Then, he and John got into the front.

"We need to get you two to the hospital now," he says softly but sternly.

Dean nodded.

"What exactly are we gonna tell them?" he asked. "because being attacked and tortured by an evil clown and his followers doesn't exactly sound realistic..."

John and Bobby smirked.

"We'll think of something."

Dean rested his head on the window as the car was put into drive and sped away. He looked over at his father and never felt so happy and relieve to see him. He always knew what to do and what to say. Dean wanted to be just like him.

"You always so," he replies as he looks out the back window at the hell house they were held in. He couldn't help but smile when the last of it caught fire and burned to nothing in the ground. And he smiled even brighter at the thought of Ronald and Sugar being trapped in there.

Dean shook his head when he thought about how this all started. He looked down at Sam and sighed. And he couldn't help but think : _We should've just went to Wendy's like I said..._

* * *

**The end. **

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